


The Realms of Fire, Night and Ice

by trxshleigh



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Children of Characters, F/M, Future Fic, Post-War, Prythian, Terrasen, The Night Court
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 13:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxshleigh/pseuds/trxshleigh
Summary: In the future, the Night Court has created an academy for young fae. Lyria, the heir to Terrasen is attending for the first time, at the behest of her parents. Rohan, the heir of the Night Court and and old family friend attends with her, keeping an eye on her. Their time together sparks something between them, something sacred and old, but with duties of their own, it remains forbidden, by the laws of their courts and their honour.





	1. Chapter 1

“Is she always this terrifying” Asked Ilias, as he approached the tall, well dressed male.   
“Actually, I think you caught her on a good day, usually she’s more…” replied Rohan, his violet eyes fixated on the silver haired girl, who was currently throwing burning blades into the air in a deadly arc.   
“Bowel shockingly efficient?”   
Rohan shot a grin at Ilias.   
“I was going go to with randomly violent.. but that works too. Still with parents like hers, what more could you expect.”  
Ilias raised his brows. “What kind of bloodline provides that kind of power at such a young age?”  
Both boys returned their gaze to the girl, who was now aiming her fiery knives at herself, directed by her own wind.  
“Rowan Whitethorn and Aelin Galathynius”  
Ilias swore under his breath, then grinned as he said to Rohan, “So I guess you’re no longer the fanciest royal here then”  
He shrugged, “I guess, but I’ve known her all my life so she’s just Lyria to me. Still, a bit of excitement will do this place some good I think.”  
Both boys turned away from the now flaming girl and headed back toward the main tower, its grey stones illuminated with a pink glow from the setting sun.   
“So what’s her name again?”  
“Lyria Whitethorn Ashryver Galathynius”  
“Gods, a name like that rivals even your own pompous one.”  
Both boys laughed, a loud cackle emanating from Ilias.  
“When did she get here” he asked.   
“Yesterday” Rohan replied. “Though I’m surprised she’s training so soon, I mean, at least get acclimatised to your new home”  
Ilias shrugged, “Surely it’s not so different from… wherever she’s from. Is it Traht, no Tigrell? Te- Tern- Testa- , ugh I wish we still lived in the age when we only had to know the names of royals in our realm, not others as well, I mean how often will I nee-”  
“Terrassen” Rohan cut in.   
“Terrassen” Illias repeated. “Oh yeah, green and gold or something like that?”  
“Silver, but close guess” Rohan laughed at his friend, so hopeless with his court knowledge.   
Illias grinned. “Yeah well, she’s got some razor sharp skills, I’d love to see you two up against each other.” He began ducking and twirling, imitating the motions of a duel.   
“Yeah, she has. Still, I’d be excited to go up against her. We haven’t duelled since we were in single digits, and a challenge other than a Prythian heir will be a welcome excitement.”  
“Oh yes, it must be such a drag having only 7 others who could even attempt a duel with you” said Ilias, sarcasm dripping from each word, still with a grin on his mouth and a sparkle in his blue eyes.   
“Oh you know that’s not what I meant!” Rohan exclaimed, shoving Ilias lightly.   
Holding up his hands in surrender, Ilias unfurled his wings from their position on his back. “Okay, okay, I shall see your lordiness tomorrow then” he laughed, sketching a bow.  
Rohan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, suppressing a grin. “Tomorrow”.   
Ilias shot into the air, a great booming sound coming from his wings as he sped off into the night. Shaking his head, Rohan unfurled his own wings and took off, aiming for the house of Wind. 

Panting despite the cool night air, Lyria Whitethorn Ashryver Galathynius let all nine of her blades fall from the sky, extinguishing their flames to watch as Rohan, Heir of the Night Court of Prythian, took off, his dark wings dancing through the air. Her knives still sizzling on the green grass, she unbound her silver hair from its braid and shook it out, before collecting her scattered artillery and headed off toward her room on campus.   
She missed her parents. Her father’s tattooed face, her mother’s gleaming blonde hair. She missed Uncle Aedion, Aunt Lysandra, Eathan Ashryver, her Uncle Dorian, Jamie Havillard and so many others. Her whole life, a whole realm away.   
Well, actually a step through a wyrd gate, but still.   
Arriving at her room, she threw her blades atop her still unpacked bags, peeled off her sweaty clothes and sunk into her bath, scalding hot, the way she liked it, due to the magic of these lands. From her window she could see the distant mountains, the sparkling lights of a city and stars. Startlingly white against their indigo backdrop they shimmered and shone as if they were waltzing through the sky. Beautiful, she thought. So very beautiful.   
Just like her mother, Lyria had acquired quite the taste for luxury, her bathroom lined with bottles of expensive Terrasen shampoos, conditioners, soaps and body oils, which in the next half hour, she would use thoughroughly . But for now, gazing at the sky was enough for her.   
Soon after, Lyria padded out of her bathroom and into the warm yellow light of her living room, dressed in simple, black, close cut pants and a fine emerald tunic, smelling of jasmine and soap. She moved into her bedroom and sat in front of her small vanity before brushing her hair. It was only now that she noticed the envelope resting upon her bed. Curious, she placed her hairbrush on the vanity and ripped open the letter.   
Small cursive lettering upon thick card read:  
My dear Lyria  
We are all so excited that you’re finally here for more than a few days  
If you will, me and my family will be having dinner at the House of Wind   
If you want to join us. We’ll be eating around 8 O’clock, 

We hope to see you there  
Love feyre. 

Lyria placed the card down and glanced at the clock. 7:30pm. Which gave her ample time to get there. What else would she be doing tonight? Probably lounging on her bed, surrounded by her charcoals sketching.   
Why not, she thought.   
She pulled on a pair of boots and left her room, heading for the base of the building. While she was familiar with launching herself out of windows back home, she didn’t know if there were policies against that in this court, so she thought it best to take off from the lawns.  
Striding out across the green, in a flash she became a flapping hawk and soared off into the sky, following the same path Rohan had, only an hour earlier. 

 

“Did you ask her if she was coming to dinner tonight” Rohan’s father, Rhysand enquired as they selected wine from the cellar.   
“No dad, I didn’t even get to speak to her” he replied, reaching for a bottle of vintage red next to his head.   
“Well why not? You said you saw her.” Rhysand replied with a frown.  
“Exactly. I saw her, not spoke to her”   
Rhysand turned around to face his son, their appearances so similar now that they may even be considered siblings, the only difference being the enormous power that radiated from the High Lord of the Night Court.   
“How did you see her and not speak to her? Was she running away from you?” Rhysand enquired.  
“No she was- she was training. I didn’t want to bother her, and then Ilias showed up… and I- I though it best to leave her.” Rohan said, averting his gaze.   
Reading his son’s body, Rhysand dropped the subject. “Well anyway, I’m pretty sure that your mother sent her a message so, no worries.”  
Rhysand pulled his son into a hug. We’d best get going upstairs, we can’t leave your mother waiting by herself. The two males made their way up the wide staircase, a bottle of wine in each of their hands.   
Two female voices floated down the passageway to greet them.   
“Seems she did get the note indeed” his father said to him as Rohan slowed. “indeed” he whispered in response, halting. He watched his father stride off into the kitchen.   
Laughter soon followed, as his father greeted both his mother and their guest, and Rohan shook his head and continued on, into the belly of the beast. What if it’s awkward. We haven’t seen each other in what.. three years? What if she saw me watching her train today? What if we have nothing in common anymore? What if she knows how I feel about her? What if she doesn’t feel the same way? Gods above he was nervous!  
Warm light shone from the interior of the kitchen, altered after he was born to give the house of wind a more homely feeling, according to his mother.   
“Rohan, there you are!” Said his mother as he rounded the corner. “We almost thought you’d gotten lost” she laughed. Rohan placed the wine on the counter before turning to face the rest of the open kitchen. Lyria, gods above she was stunning, more so than ever before. well, with her bloodline, of course. Her silver hair gleamed in a smooth topknot, her blue and gold eyes gleaming under the warm overhead lights. Her pink lips stretched into a wide smile as she beheld him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Rohan!” She exclaimed, before rushing into his arms.

Without thinking he crushed her into a hug, her returning the gesture with the same intensity. The smell of jasmine and soap floated around him, sparking something deep within him. It was a combination that he’d never realised to be so divine. Gods he had missed her.   
Lyria took a step back to survey him. Her blue eyes sparked as she took in his midnight hair, his tanned skin and his black attire.   
“Heading to a funeral, or are you usually dressed this gothic?” She chuckled.  
“Wha- What’s wrong with my clothes. They’re monochrome” he defended.  
“You look as though you’re attending a state funeral, or you’re in mourning” she giggled.   
That sound was like music to his ears. Light, sweet and bubbly, like a bottle of expensive champagne. It was a sound he wanted to get drunk on every single day.   
“Well,” he paused debating his word choice. “You look as if you’re dressing like a tree in a primary school play! So, take that!” He shot back. Her face contorted into shock for a second and Rohan froze. What if I’ve offended her, why did I say that?! But the broke into a laugh for the second time.   
“These are the noble colours of my house, but when I return home, I’ll be sure to let my mother know your thoughts on the colour scheme” she wheezed, as if that was the funniest thing anyone had ever said to her.   
Rohan breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly looking around, he realised that both his parents had vacated the kitchen, and that the two of them were alone. In the same moment, he realised just how much she had changed since they had last seen each other. Gone was her straight, boyish body, now curved and smooth under her close fitting tunic and pants. The gentle swell of her breasts, now evident more than ever. Her jawline, sharper, her skin, more luminous. She was stunning. And he’d been staring at her.   
He cleared his throat. “Um, so should we go get dinner? I’m starving.”  
She snapped to attention, her vision clearing as they made eye contact. “Yeah for sure. What are we eating?”  
He had no idea. “Umm, best to ask my mum that, sorry.”   
“Alrighty RoRo, let’s roll because I am starving.” She linked her arm with his and pulled him into the hallway towards the dining room, while he was half dazed, already intoxicated by her presence. 

“So, Lyria. You said Aedion and Lysandra had another child since we last saw you?” Rhysand enquired. He and Feyre were seated across the table from Lyria and Rohan, as they ate their meal of chicken and vegetables. She flashed a smile, “Yeah, Aunty Lysandra and Uncle Aedion had another son, Micah, last year.” She said, making eye contact with the High Lord. “He’s adorable. Blonde hair, brown eyes, tan skin. He’s going to be a looker when he grows up!” She chuckled, before shovelling more chicken into her mouth.   
Rhysand continued, “So how many do they have now? It must be four or five?”. “Five I think” Feyre whispered. Lyria swallowed her mouthful. “Yeah, Micah was number five. So they’ve got Eathan, he’s a year and a half older than me, Ava, she’s a year younger than me, Pieter who’s 12 now, Tanna - she’s 5 now and then Micah, who’s just on 1. Big family, lots of energy, all of them much too good looking for their own good!” She laughed.   
Rohan held back from retorting. Too good looking? That was her in a nutshell, blessed with beauty and strength from both bloodlines, she was a powerhouse of both magical gifts and physical ones, the subject of envy from her peers, surely.   
Rhysand stiffened for a moment, barely perceptible to those outside his family, and Rohan frowned. Rhysand quickly glanced at Feyre for a moment, and Rohan saw the look of pure, undiluted love that ran between them, and wished to his gods, that one day, he could freely look at Lyria like that. That spark inside him still simmering.   
Lyria followed on; “But tell me more about what’s been going on here, last time we visited, this school wasn’t here…. When did that happen?”  
Feyre smiled. “Well, we wanted to help build up ties between the courts, and thought that the best way to do that was with our young. We figured, each of them needed a place to learn magic, to control their powers and such, but even more so they needed to learn about each other, and become more friendly, so we could avoid future conflict”  
Lyria smiled. “That’s amazing!” She beamed. “ We don’t have enough high fae in our realm to warrant that… yet.” She smirked and the High Lady continued; “Well, we figured that would be the case for a lot of realms, the ones which have Fae, and it cant hurt to have friends from different realms, so we sent out the word. That was 2 years ago, and it seems to be working. We have young from 14 different realms I think, most are high fae, we have some Illyrians, and a few similar from the other realms. But we also have all 7 heirs from pythian and their siblings, and you of course. So it’s a wide mix but I think that helps us learn about each other.”   
Rhysand was staring at his mate as she talked about her institute with such intensity that Lyria felt almost as if she was intruding on their moment, their lives together. And in that second, she felt extremely lonely, and overwhelmed by the fear that no-one would ever look at her like that. She turned back to her food.   
Rhysand began talking again, mostly to Rohan about his day, a boy called Ilias and other things in their lives, before he cut back to her. “Lysandra and Aedion’s eldest, was it Eathan?” He enquired. “Yes” she responded. “You said he was a year and a half older than you?” She nodded in confirmation. “That makes him what, 22?” He asked. “No he’s just gone on 23” she replied. Rhysand paused for a moment, in thought. “So has he settled yet?”  
Feyre widened her eyes. “Rhys!” Rohan shot his father a similarly warning look. Bewildered, Lyria responded. “Yes, about 3 weeks before I left it started, unfortunately, but he should be fully settled by the time I return, I think.” She gave a tight smile. “Is settling not something that is discussed here in Prythian?” Rohan answered before his parents had the chance. “No, usually it’s more of a private business, and it only really happens in the more powerful families, who like to keep it under wraps.” He returned to his food, taking the final bite of his vegetables.   
Lyria furrowed her brow. “Oh, it’s nothing like that in Terrasen. Almost all high fae go through it, so it’s not a big deal.”  
Rhysand beamed, “As I thought, I wouldn’t have enquired otherwise”. Lyria smiled back at him. “No, no, it’s fine.”  
Feyre looked at Rhysand for a moment before they both rose, a conversation within that glance. “We’re feeling like going flying tonight, the weather is beautiful. If you want to stay here, feel free, otherwise there’s no-one at the townhouse. It was wonderful to catch up with you Lyria.” She added with a smile. The two mates turned and walked out of the room, a pair of matching wings appearing behind each of their backs as they exited.   
That left Rohan and Lyria together. With a snap of his fingers, both the plates and mess disappeared, leaving the table bare, except for the candelabras.   
She swivelled in her chair to face Rohan. “So, what should we do now?”.


	2. Chapter 2

They sat upon Rohan’s large bed, surrounded by black silk sheets and pillows. Lyria, propped on her elbows turned to Rohan. “Now, you have to tell me all the gossip, everything I have missed in my absence.” He furrowed his brow. “Like what?” As much as he loved having Lyria around, he wasn’t used to such gossip.  
“Anything and everything. Who to avoid at school, dumb pranks that you have pulled, any thing eventful.” She said with a knowing smile. Rohan breathed a sigh.  
“Well, okay. School. Most people are friendly but, well I mean you might, because of your similar talents, get along with Aria at school. But hopefully not, because most of us dont.”  
“What do you mean, similar talents?” She watched him intently before laughing. “Surely she can’t eat an entire 12 inch chocolate cake by herself too!” Rohan broke into a laugh, a sound that harmonised with her own giggling. “No, no I more meant your tendency to play with fire,” He raised his hands in defence “But I haven’t seen her attempt a 12 inch chocolate cake, so who’s to tell?” Lyria’s laughter faded and her face became idly amused again. “Ok, so Aria is an heir?”  
Rohan nodded. “Yeah, Heir to the Autumn Court. She’s cruel though. Something that we all hoped would be lost in her time at the school, but apparently not. Still, she’s 3 years older than us, so we won’t have too much contact with her” He shrugged and lay against the pillows. Lyria nodded her head. “So no Aria. Noted. Who else?”.  
“Well, Invie, she’s heir of the Winter Court. She’s a year older than us but super nice. Sometimes sickeningly, but you two would get along well. The same sense of wicked humour.” He smirked. Seconds later a black pillow came hurtling for his head.  
“My humour is not wicked” She protested. Rohan propped himself on his elbows to look at Lyria, her Ashryver eyes glaring at him. Laughing, Rohan threw the pillow back at her. “It is too!” He claimed. This time it wasn’t a pillow but her whole body, as she tackled him back onto the sheets, then rolled off laughing. Both staring at his white bedposts, she began her next investigation. “And who is this Ilias that your father is oh so fond of?” She probed. Rohan’s gut clenched. “Ilias is Nesta and Cassian - my mum’s sister and father’s best friend. Ilias is their son. He’s a year younger than us. So just turned 20, but he’s in most of our classes.”  
“Oh, yes I remember them!” She stole a glance at Rohan before continuing. “So… is he pretty and single?”. Rohan felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Her and Ilias. No. His blood began to heat. “Well, you have seen his parents. He’s handsome… I guess, and a good male.” forced out through gritted teeth, “And he isn’t seeing anyone exclusively right now.” Each. Word. Hurt. Lyria just smiled. “Excellent! I have my first task of the year.” Rohan felt as if he were going to explode. Jealousy crawled under his skin, itching and painful. Why do I care so much?  
Lyria marked his changing scent. “Rohan… are you okay?” She questioned, looking over at him. He remained motionless, his stormy eyes staring at the ceiling as he nodded. Lyria moved away, but continued in a casual voice. “Enough talk of school, what else has been happening. I thought your parents wanted another child?”  
Rohan’s anger dissipated almost as instantly as it had arrived.  
“Yeah, they did but children are so rare in this realm, I think the talk of Aedion’s five children made my Mum a little jealous.” He said, finally turning to face her.  
“Oh, sorry, I had no idea.” Worry clouded her delicate features.  
“No, not your fault. But yeah, it is one of the downfalls of being powerful here. The more power the less likely you are to have children.” He said, avoiding eye contact with her, acutely aware of his shifting scent.  
Her brow furrowed again. “What about you then? Doesn’t that scare you?” She asked quietly. Rohan met her eyes. “Me? Why would it scare me?”  
She averted her gaze. “Because both of your parents are basically overflowing with power. I can only imagine what you’ll have when you’re High Lord.”  
He shrugged. He had never considered this. “Oh yeah, well, I’ve never really though about it. Anyway, I have millennia to try, and hopefully a mate to find before then.” He smiled at her.  
Lyria flushed, both at his smile and the idea of a mate. The air crackled lightly with her power surging. Rohan marked this change, filing it away in his mind. Then suddenly, the air went still. “I don’t think I’ll have a mate” she sighed. Rohan frowned. “And why not?” Sadness curled in his gut, not only at her misery, but as his own unspoken knowledge shuddered slightly. The room continued to drop a couple of degrees. Rohan shivered.  
“I just can’t imagine anyone loving all of me in that way.” She said sadly. “Not in the sappy, woe is me kind of way, it’s just in my realm, the only others my age who have the same power as me are Jamie, Eathan and Ivy. But none of them are my mate, I know that at least.” She stretched her arms over her head, then proceeded to flop back onto the sheets. “Everyone else is somewhat afraid of me. Not of me, but of my power, of what I contain. And I can’t imagine anyone looking at me the way that your parents look at each other, or the way that my parents look at each other. I almost feel as if this power is a curse” She sent several butterfly shaped flames flapping around the room for effect. “and that no-one will ever truly see past it”. She sighed and the butterflies disappeared.  
Rohan’s heart dropped. He could see past it. He knew he could. That spark exploded across the front of his mind. She is your mate. Just as quickly as it appeared, Rohan shoved it back.  
Shakily, he responded, “You never know, maybe Ilias might be different.” The words hurt to say. Unaware of his internal conflict she just nodded. “Maybe”.  
She sat up suddenly. “This conversation has become overwhelmingly sad. Show me around this home, I’m sure your mother has done some new decorating.”  
Grateful for the distraction he rose from the bed. “Alright then, follow me” he said. The two of them exited the bedroom and left behind their own worries, for tonight at least. 

 

Laying on her bed in her room, Lyria never felt so alone. After opening up to Rohan tonight about her mate fears, her bed had never felt so empty. He hadn’t said what she wanted him to say. She wanted him to say that he was her mate. That there was a bond between them that had been growing since their infancy. That he saw past her power, that he too, was her equal. But he didn’t. She didn’t want Ilias. That had just been to stir up the air between them. And from what she had witnessed, the tightening of his jaw, the anger and pain in his eyes, he didn’t want her to be with Ilias either. But he had said nothing. And now, she wasn’t even sure if that pull to him, if that longing that she felt for him was a mating bond. Maybe he was her canaram. still, if it was, she would cherish that bond, cherish him, for the millennia that would be their lives.  
She knew deep down, that he was hers. Or at least she thought she knew. But their scents hadn’t changed… much. And she didn’t think his parents had scented them, so maybe not. Still, she didn’t exactly know all the ins and outs of the mating process, and she wasn’t about to ask. That would bring too much attention to her, and to Rohan.  
Rohan. He set a fire inside of her. She hoped that he didn’t notice today, but she felt hot, and for the heir to a fire kingdom, that was something. Her skin didn’t quite fit right when he was around, as if she needed his touch to soothe her. Laying beside him, the soft silk of his bed brushing against her skin, she felt as though she was going to explode. He was so close to her, she could hear his breath. Sense the rise and fall of his chest. Something she had been dreaming of for the last three years.  
Her skin was still singing, hours after they said their goodbyes. Is he thinking about me, as I am of him? She wondered. Then shook the thoughts from her head. Of course he isn’t, to him we’re just friends. She quickly got up, to try and distract herself. Noticing the bags that still rested by the door in her living room, she decided to unpack, hanging her training clothes, court attire, casual wear, formal dresses and lacy delicates in the spacious closet of her bedroom. Her eyes snagged on a particular bodysuit of indigo lace, embedded with silver thread, that sparkled and shifted in the light.  
I wonder if Rohan would appreciate this piece? She wondered, alighting a fire within her core once again that, unlike last time could not be ignored. She quickly shoved the rest of her clothing in the closet, and without taking the time to pack away her bags, strode into her bedroom, discarding her tunic and trousers as she went. A loud thump gave notice of her arrival on her bed, where she spent the next few hours wishing Rohan was there to help her. 

…

Across the city, the heir of the night court sat in his bathing chamber, wings propped over the sides of the porcelain tub. Warm tendrils of steam rose from the water, smelling of pine and iron. Some soap concoction his mother had found when he was young, which he had taken a liking to, and stuck with ever since.  
Rohan shut his eyes and slid further into the water, feeling the self loathing creep up on him as the water rose. Why, why, why didn’t I say anything. Oh Ilias is a good male, Ilias isn’t seeing anyone, Ilias is handsome. WHY DIDN’T I SAY ANYTHING. The words kept swirling around his head. Ilias is a good male. She is your mate. Ilias is a good male. She is your mate. Further and further her sank, feeling his wings catch on the cold tub, preventing him from sliding completely beneath the water.  
He preferred to bathe like this. The warm water lapping against the membrane of his wings was often… too much to handle. The cold scrape of the marble floors was better. Gave him greater control over himself. Something that he had so nearly lost tonight, as Lyria lay just inches away.  
Less than a second. That was all it would have taken. To touch her. Kiss her. To step across the barrier of childhood friends and initiate the scent marker of an unclaimed mating bond. But so young. Both of them were. Both unsettled, it was extremely uncommon for them to have a mating bond present. But he wouldn’t tell her. Maybe it would present to her once she settled, because she wasn’t aware of it now.  
But he was. Just thinking about it, about her pushed against his self control.  
Suddenly, Rohan stood. The cool air a shock after the warmth of the water, which now ran in rivulets down his muscled torso and legs. He quickly dried and strode out of his bathing room. Still naked, and still needy, he locked his bedroom door and padded back to his bed.  
Lying upon the sheets, his mind wandered back to Lyria, and what she was doing right now. Probably sketching, he thought. But that didn’t stop his imagination, or his hands, as they slowly worked his favourite limb. Images of her, her lips, her curves, her breasts filled his mind, and as Rohan shifted to release one of his wings, pinned under him, he caught it. Her scent, from where she had been laying on his sheets. And it was his undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's short but I wanted to group the next section specifically, so it'll be longer.


	3. Chapter 3

At first light, Lyria was standing in the centre of the back field, the emerald grass still wet with morning dew. She had been out here for an hour already, running drills with flames and steel, sharpening not only her magic, but her body.   
But with no matter how many blades she threw, how much she spun, flipped, kicked and dove, she couldn’t get the thought of Rohan out of her mind. Grunting, she launched 4 knives into the air, pausing to watch them ascend, then spin, driving toward the ground. A shield of flame grew from her right arm, as she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge of the flying blade. She snapped her head back around, marking the position of the position of the knife, before throwing out her powers of wind to direct the three remaining blades, so they landed in a perfect diamond formation. Grinning, she rose from her crouch, her shield of flame still glowing against her tanned skin. She strode across the grass, wrenching each knife from the soft ground and wiping it against her brown pants.   
She turned to face the sun, peeking over the mountainous horizon in the distance, then swiftly turned, heading back toward the back of one of the towers. She pulled a short stick of chalk from her pocket, as well as a strip of green silk. Stepping up to the towering grey stone, she walked, marking an “x” every few meters, at varying heights, until there were 15 in total, wrapping around the side of the tower. An exercise she had practiced with her father, target recognition and accuracy. Her father, his harsh, tattooed face a sight she missed dearly. Her own silver hair, a mark of her bloodline. She dropped her knives and the chalk beside the walls, before pacing backward, until she was 25 meters away, her markings now slight smudges against the dark stones. She dropped the silk on the grass, marking her starting position. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it dissipate slowly before she broke into a run.   
Step, step, shoot. Bolts of ice flew from her hand, colliding with the wall with a shrill BANG. Step, Step, Bang.   
Step, Step, Bang.  
Step, Step, Bang.   
Around she continued, shooting ice at her targets with unnerving accuracy, until all 15 chalk marks were no longer visible through the layer of ice above them. She smiled, pacing back to the wall, making new marks, closer together and smaller.   
Step, Step, Bang.  
Step, Step, Bang.  
Inspect.   
Mark  
Step, Step, Bang.  
Step, Step, Bang.  
Again and again, until the sun left her soaked in sweat and the wake up bell rang out across campus. 

Across the city, Rohan’s feet were swept out from under him for the tenth time this morning, his father standing over him. “You need to move your feet” Rhysand said, before bending down to pull his son from the mat. “I know, I know” Rohan replied, rolling his neck.   
“If you know, then why don’t you do it?” His uncle Cassian shot with a grin, from across the room. Rohan grumbled a response under his breath. He grabbed his staff and positioned across from his father once more. “That’s enough son” Said his father, moving to place his own staff on the rack. Rohan relaxed, twirling his staff around his wrist. “Your mother will be waiting” Rhysand continued. “You’d best be on your way”.   
Rhysand held out his hand, motioning for Rohan’s staff. “Thanks dad. I’ll see you tonight”. Rhysand smiled at his son. “Have fun today, and make sure Lyria doesn’t get lost, will you?”. Rohan nodded, his face flushing at the mention of the female he was certain was his mate. He hoped it would be covered by his training sweat. “Aye Aye captain” He replied, nodding once at his uncles across the room, before slipping out through the side door.

The three males exchanged glances. “I wasn’t the only one who got that, right?” Cassian said, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against and striding across the room.   
“No, I did too” said Azriel, cleaning his blade atop a wooden crate. The two males turned to face their High Lord. “Rhys?” The male stood completely still.  
“I picked it up last night. Lyria was over for dinner yesterday” he said, his eyes unfocused.   
Cassian frowned. “Does he know that you know?”  
Rhys sighed and rubbed his face. “I don’t even know exactly what I know” he said, turning to look at his commander.   
“Well” said Cassian. “That scent, it reminds me of you around Feyre, before she knew you were mates” he said, crossing his arms across his broad chest. Azriel remained atop the crate, watching his two closest friends carefully. Rhys sighed again. “He hasn’t even settled yet. Nor has she. Its unheard of.” He shook his head, his brow furrowing. His violet eyes, normally sparkling and clear were clouded with worry.   
Cassian snorted. “Maybe before, but he’s got a powerful bloodline. Maybe prior rules don’t apply here”. Azriel looked between them. “I haven’t had any reports of her… knowing.” Rhys looked at his spymaster for a moment, then nodded.   
“Maybe it’s for the best.” He said. Cassian’s mouth dropped open. “The best?” He exclaimed. “You of all people know how much it hurts to have your mate right there, but not be mated”. Disbelief rolled off the commander. Azriel angled himself between the two males. “Cassian” he warned. Rhys just turned around, staring out over the city through the large window. “I know”. The High Lord paused. “ but, as much as it hurts me, they can’t be together” he said. Cassian strode to him, fury spurring his heels. “What! Why? You can’t keep two mates apart Rhys, not even you!” He exclaimed. Azriel, walked over to the other two before quietly stating, “She has duties, as does he”.  
Rhys just nodded. “What duties does she have?” Cassian spat. But it was Rhysand that responded. “She’s the only heir to Terrassen, and he the sole to the Night Court. They cannot both rule and be together,” He said sadly.   
“But they’re mates” cried Cassian.   
Azriel placed a hand upon his shoulder. “We don’t know that for sure. It may just be attraction”.   
Cassian whirled on him. “Well, I’ve never seen a scent change that dramatic for just attraction” he seethed.   
“You also haven’t seen mates that both haven’t settled” Rhys reasoned. Cassian glared at his High Lord. “Feyre was unsettled when you mated”.  
“You know that’s different” Rhys shot back.   
“If they are mates Rhysand, you can’t keep them apart” Cassian repeated. Rhys just sighed again. “I know. But I don’t know what to do”. Azriel moved between the two again.   
“There’s nothing we can do” he said quietly. Rhys nodded. The three males stood in silence, staring out over the city. It was Cassian who first spoke.   
“Enough of this, I’m ready to kick your ass again Rhys. Hand to hand” A grin spread across his handsome face. Rhysand strode over to the sparring mats, a mirroring grin on his own face. “Bring it on, brother”.

Lyria swept her long hair into ponytail and adjusted her tunic. The black material was thick and comfortable, of a fine make. Her royal sigil was stitched above her left breast, the stag emblazoned in green and silver thread over her heart.   
She stared at herself one last time, the uniform here so at odds to what she often wore around the castle at home. The black tunic, black pants and black boots made her hair appear almost white, while her eyes reflected a deep turquoise. She shifted in her boots before grabbing her book bag off the table and swinging open the door.   
Where she nearly collided with Rohan. With a startled gasp he steadied her in his arms. “Rohan,” she breathed, his iron and pine scent floating around her. Her breath hitched.   
“I’m- I’m sorry” he stammered, helping her upright. He coughed lightly, a flush gracing his tan cheeks. “I- I just thought, maybe, you wanted to walk to class together, I- I can show you around” he fumbled over his words. Why was he so nervous. He had never spoken to her like this. “Oh” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “That would be a life saver actually”. She smiled at him. “Oh!” He replied, caught off gaurd. “I mean- good, okay, well, let’s go then” he spun quickly, running a hand through his hair. “Classes await, princess” he called, and her footsteps quickly sounded behind him.   
The two heirs walked together from the boarding house to the central building, past the tower Lyria had been training on that morning , still encrusted with a thin layer of ice. Rohan slowed. “Your doing?” He asked, staring at the ice, shimmering in the morning sun. Lyria smiled. “Me? Oh no. I despise training. And why would I deface a building like that. Couldn’t have been me” She laughed. The sound stirring something deep within him. Rohan just smiled in response. “Come on, we’ll be late”.

“Ah my favourite lord” exclaimed Ilias as Rohan and Lyria entered their first class of the day. A smattering of young fae sat on desks and chairs around the room. An entire wall was dedicated to books, another, a chalk board, floor to ceiling. Lyria had never seen anything like it. “Ilias!” Rohan laughed, moving to embrace his friend. Lyria stayed back, but Ilias made eye contact with her over Rohan’s shoulder.   
“You must be the terrifying princess I saw training yesterday” he grinned, the action lighting up his handsome face. He sketched a bow where he was sitting. “The name’s Ilias” he said. Lyria stepped towards the two boys. “Lyria.” She said in greeting.   
Ilias flicked up his brows. “And where may you be from, Miss Lyria?” He said, eying the sigil on her tunic. “Terrasen” she replied. “And you? I don’t recognise that” she motioned to his own sigil, white thread curling and warping in the sky above mountains”. Ilias laughed. “Not so much a house, but a tribe. This is the sigil of the Ilyrians.” He said, pride shining through his words. “Duly noted” she responded, smiling back at him.  
“So,” he continued. “Do you plan on standing 4 feet away for the rest of the day or are you going to come and sit with us?” Ilias asked. She blushed. “Right.” She moved to sit next to Rohan, Ilias beside him. “If he’s annoying, just tell him to shove off” Rohan whispered to her. The action sent shivers down her spine. “noted” she whispered back. Ilias leaned forward on the desk to say something else, but a professor, a tall woman in a navy robe strode into the room, sending all the students into their seats before she had even closed the door. This was the first day of her next two years. She breathed in deeply. Best enjoy it as she can. 

Two days later, came their first combat session. The fourteen students stood in two lines, all wearing similar, tight fitting, white cotton shirts, each with their house sigil sewed onto their left breast, close fitting black pants and boots. Lyria stood between Ilias and Rohan, her silver hair in two tight braids down her back.   
Before them stood a tall male with luxuriously dark skin and long, golden hair. His harsh face was softened by his eyes, sparkling blue in the midday sun.   
“A new year brings a new opportunity for each and every one of you to improve.” He said, pacing in front of the students. Ilias shot a grin at Lyria. “My name is Uda, and I have the pleasure of teaching you to fight.” He paused. “For those of you who are new” He shot a look at one of the males behind Lyria, “The first portion of today’s session will be to… exhibit your skills” He smiled. “Newbies, come to me, the rest of you can keep stretching.”   
Rohan gave Lyria a tight smile before walking away with Ilias. Lyria and four others made their way towards Uda, who was watching them, arms crossed.   
“Welcome” he said, smiling. Lyria couldn’t read him. His harsh face was so at odds to his soft tone, yet his words had an edge to them. She surveyed the rest of the group. Two girls stood close to each other. One with auburn hair, the other blonde. Their green eyes shone, fixated on Uda. The same sigil, a flame, marked them as members of the autumn court, not heirs, but of the high lord’s family. The boy next to them, the one Uda had motioned at during his speech, wore a sigil of a curving wave , the turquoise thread matching his eyes. His white hair offset his tan skin, which seemed to glow in the warm sun. Summer court, and by the star that rested above the cresting wave, an heir. Finally, she looked at the male standing beside her. His jet black hair seemed to absorb the light, while his golden eyes remained overcast. A black snake with a small star crowning its head, was sewed onto his shirt, marking him as an heir to a foreign kingdom. Three heirs and two noble born. This was a powerhouse group.   
Uda clapped. “Okay, the purpose of this is to show me, and your classmates what you are capable of. That way I know how to train you, where your weak spots are, and who to partner you with”. The five of them nodded in unison. “The way this works. See those nine” He motioned to the other students. “Each of them is going to have a shot at you. Now each of them have a different skill set, both magical and physical, so be prepared for anything” He smiled. “I’ll be watching, and if it gets out of hand, don’t worry.” He clapped once more. “What I want to see is how well you attack and defend. Make it and exhibition, not just a duel” he said, before striding over to the other group, all in various stretches. The boy from the summer court looked across the circle at her. “Well, this should be fun” he beamed. “I’m Xavier” he said, holding out a hand. “Lyria” she responded, shaking his outstretched hand. “Lyria” he said. “Wherever are you from, I don’t recognise that house” he said, motioning to the stag on her shirt. “Terrasen,” she responded. A look of confusion passed over his features. “Another realm” she remedied. Xavier nodded, “Ah that would explain it” he smiled. “I always forget courts outside our little island.” The blonde haired girl stepped forward. “Me too, there’s just so many” a blush ran across her pale skin. “I’m Alena, and this is Gallen” She said, motioning to the other girl. Lyria smiled at them. “Autumn court?” She asked, motioning to their sigil. “Yep!” Exclaimed Gallen. Xavier smiled warmly at them. The dark haired male still said nothing.   
“Newbies” bellowed Uda, from across the grass. The five of them turned to see their instructor motioning them over. Their classmates were spread in a wide circle in front of Uda. “Let’s do this,” grinned the heir to the Summer Court, before breaking into a run. Lyria took off after him, the gentle jog stretching her legs. Seconds later, she and Xavier stood in front of Uda, the twins closely following behind.  
She turned around to look at the rest of her class. Each of them were still warming up, stretching legs, jumping on the spot or rolling their arms. Rohan stood on the far side of the circle, watching her as he pulled his leg up to his chest. He shot her a smile, before turning to the dark haired female to his right. Lyria’s gut clenched.   
“Who wants to go first?”. Uda’s voice cut through her thoughts, snapping her to attention. Xavier stepped forward. “I’ll do it” he said, still smiling. Uda nodded. “Very well then, go and stand in the centre of the circle.” Xavier jogged off, heading into the belly of the beast. As he slowed, the nine students turned to face him, their hands open at their sides.   
“On my call” bellowed Uda. Lyria looked across the circle again once more, staring straight at Rohan. But his concentration was now on the summer heir.   
“Three.” Uda shouted. Xavier tensed.  
“Two.” Ilias shifted his feet.   
“One.” Lyria’s eyes bounced between her classmates.   
“Iris” Uda shouted. Xavier spun towards a girl with blonde hair, as a wave of golden light punched from her body, forming a lion. Quick as an asp, Xavier ducked, the golden lion leaping over his head. The lion pivoted, running again at the heir. Spinning, Xavier threw up a wall of water between he and the animal, sprinting for the Spring Court girl. The lion collided with the water, dissolving with a his. The wall dropped as he reached Iris but she was lying in wait. He dropped to the ground, sliding in an attempt to knock her legs from beneath her, but the girl launched herself into the air, missing Xavier and landing in a crouch opposite him. Grunting, he pushed himself off the grass, throwing out his hand as a wave crashed into Iris. With a gasp she tumbled forward, catching herself at the last moment. Xavier took the opportunity to advance, and the two locked into close hand to hand combat. Golden light and water flashed between the two with each block and blow until Xavier left his side exposed and Iris landed a kick, launching the boy across the circle. She took off after him, sprinting across the grass, and before he could even rise, she had a hand poised above him. Xavier flopped back to the grass. “yield” he called.   
Iris reached a hand down and pulled him from the grass, laughing. “Valiant effort, my friend” She smiled. Xavier grinned back at her, “When did you get so good at close combat?” He looked at her incredulously. “I didn’t, you just got bad” she grinned.   
From across the field, Uda laughed. “Iris wins.” Lyria watched on, noting the lack of precision from both competitors. The use of broad strokes of power in close combat, while somewhat effective, didn’t have the precision of a power forged blade or tool. In Terrasen she had been trained to create and use complex and effective weapons, forged from her own power. Daggers of flame and ice, bows, shields, swords, etc. simple walls and surges of power were uncontrolled and dangerous, not only to your opponent, but to you also.   
Xavier’s laugh cut through her appraisal, and she gave him a tight smile. He came to stand beside her. “So, it turns out I am not as good at combat as I thought I was” He whispered, smiling. She grinned back at him. “Seems so”.  
Uda turned to them. “Whitethorn, you’re up”. Lyria nodded, and began her trek to the centre of the circle. She could feel the eyes of the whole class upon her as she walked. She kept her eyes on the grass, until she reached the white marker. She looked up.  
“Three.” Uda shouted.   
“Two.” One breath in. One breath out.   
“One” her fingers flexed at her sides.   
“Ilias” Uda bellowed.   
Lyria pivoted towards the male, four ruby siphons glowing against his white shirt. He grinned before holding up an arm, blasting a line of red power towards her. Lyria had been expecting this, and a shield of flame grew from her elbow, easily absorbing his attack. Shock passed over his face. He threw another blast of power at her, but she was already running. The blast came closer and she rolled, easily dodging it. A dagger of flame appeared in her hand before she had even risen from the grass. She took one step before launching it at Ilias. He raised his arm to block it, an uneven shield forming. Her dagger hit home, cracking his half formed shield. She sent another two flying before he had the chance to recover, forcing him to duck and roll to avoid injury. She was mere meters from her opponent, who was unsteady on his feet as she approached. He flung out two shots of his power at her, which she shielded easily. She was on him now, and landed her first blow. Ilias grunted, the air rushing out of him as he fell to the floor. On the way down he swept out his legs to knock her over. Lyria jumped back, putting more space between the two competitors. Ilias saw his chance. He sent a blast of power towards her again, giving him time to rise from the grass. She dodged it, twin shields wrapping themselves around her forearms. She grinned at Ilias again, as he threw blast after blast of red power towards her from his siphones. Block, block throw. She launched daggers of ice towards him between his blasts.   
An angered gasp emanated from Ilias as his bolt missed its mark. Step, block. Step, throw. Dagger after dagger met their mark, shattering through Ilias’ poorly made shields. One hit home, and a startled grunt came from her opponent, as blood bloomed on his shirt. Still, he did not yield. With a yell, he ran toward her, and the two locked in hand to hand. He landed one blow to her exposed left, knocking her off balance. Seizing the opportunity, he sent another blast of power toward her. She rolled to the side, the grass sizzling where she had been mere moments before. Ilias was on the attack again. He was running towards her hands poised to strike. Before he could advance anymore a burning whip formed in her hands. With a flick of her wrist it wrapped around his ankle. She yanked, pulling the male down to the ground. The air rushed out of him as he hit the ground, and within seconds Lyria was standing over him, a pointed staff of ice pressing against his throat. His eyes widened. “Yield. Yeild!” He gasped. Lyria dropped to the grass.   
“Oh gods I’m so sorry” she gasped, pulling up his shirt to reveal the puncture wound just above his waistband, which was currently spilling blood down his side. “I should have moved,” he grunted “I can fix it myslef”. Lyria shook her head. “Don’t be stupid. I’ll do it.” She placed her hands on either side of his wound. The skin began to knit together, red and raw, but strong. She removed her hands, leaning back on her feet. All that was left was a thin pink line, standing out against his bronze skin, and the blood on his shirt. He looked up at her. “Where the hell did you learn that” He asked incredulously, running his hand along the scar. “It’s basic training in Terrasen” she replied. She stood, holding out a hand to him.   
“Lyria wins” bellowed Uda from across the circle. A smattering of applause sounded from the class. It was only then that she looked up. Her peers were not looking at her as they had Iris. Fear, confusion and disbelief rolled across each of their faces. Except Rohan. A look of pride was set on his features as he stared at her. Smiling. She broke into a jog and crossed the field, retaking her place next to Xavier. “Holy shit.” He breathed. “Where in hell did you learn to do that?” He questioned. Lyria just shrugged. “I train a lot” she said, turning to watch as Gallen made her way across the field. She was easily beaten by a boy from the winter court, her weak flame no match for his icy blasts. Alena fared slightly better against a female from the Day Court, getting in a few offensive blows before being over powered. That left the foreign male.   
“Aesir” bellowed Uda. The boy snapped to attention, before he crossed the grass silently, pausing in the middle of the ring.   
“Three. Two. One.” Shouted Uda.  
“Rohan!”  
Dark tendrils of night exploded from both boys. They collided with a boom, before both males disappeared inside the opaque swathe of their power. It shifted and changed, like a menacing cloud, grunts emanating from both opponents within. The class watched silently, as the cloud pulsated. Minutes passed, all members of the class watching in silence, before a loud grunt erupted, and the darkness dissapated. Aesir lay on the grass, tendrils of night wound around his ankles, wrists and neck, pinning him to the ground.   
“Yield” He grunted, and Rohan released his powers and turned to walk back to his place around the circle. Aesir pushed off the grass and stormed back to stand with Lyria and Xavier. Uda clapped twice, and the students began moving towards him.  
He turned to look as Aesir. “The purpose of that was so I could assess you” he said. “And I cant do that if I cant see you” he shook his head. “all I gathered from that” he waved a hand “is that Rohan is a better fighter than you, which doesn’t give me much to go off”  
Aesir just shrugged. Uda sighed, but the rest of the class had arrived.   
“Ok, I’m thinking we work on weapons for the rest of the afternoon” said Uda. “Pair up” he continued. Xavier turned to Lyria. “Want to work together?” She smiled. “Sure.” He beamed, starting after Uda. Rohan approached her. “You’re working with him?” He asked, no emotion in his voice. “Yeah, sorry he asked me and I just thought I should be making friends” She gave him a tight smile, “Sorry again” and strode off after Xavier.   
The rest of the afternoon was spent forging daggers, swords and bows from their powers, and using them on each other, while being bombarded by Xavier’s questions. Weaponry was Lyria’s second nature, the skill being foged for a decade now by her father. For Xavier, it was not. So for every weapon he made, Lyria answered a question. “How do you have both fire and ice,” “Where did you learn that kick,” “How did you heal him so quickly” and so on.   
The sun had begun to set when Uda released them. “I think we’ll continue with weapons next class” he said with a nod. “Off you go then, I’m sure you’re ready for a meal” he grinned and turned away from them. The class broke off into groups, heading towards the main building as the stars appeared above. 

Later that night, Rohan sat behind a large, oak desk, in the study of the House of Wind. Leather bound books were spread all around him, but the words were swimming in front of his eyes. He couldn’t focus on war histories, or Prythian’s lords from centuries ago. All he wanted to think about was Lyria. The way she moved today. Gods above.   
He had fought Ilias countless times, growing up together, their parents trained them similarly. And countless times, Ilias had bested Rohan. He was a good fighter, great even - for their age, in Prythian terms.   
Yet Lyria made him look like he was an infant, with weak shields, poor technique and no idea how to defend or attack. She was glorious. Her skill with magical weapons was phenomenal, each attack carefully planned and crafted, precise and deadly. And she had been holding back, not out to kill but to injure. He hadn’t seen her fight since they were very young, without a double digit to each of their ages. Somehow, in that time, she had become a weapon, forged and honed by Terrasen to be deadly. It was exhilirating to say the least.  
He leaned back in his chair. There were three things he couldn’t shake from his mind. One. Lyria’s ease. No-one else in that class, in that school even, had the same discipline and precision over their powers. That was something that was mastered after centuries, not two decades. He certainly didn’t have that kind of control. Whilst they were drilling, he had been sneaking glances at her, watching her create fine weapons from her magic. It was remarkable. She could create knives, daggers, swords, whips, shields, bows… it went on and on. What was even more remarkable was the craftsmanship of each. While he was making flimsy, weak bladed daggers from his own obsidian magic, hers, both ice and fire, were sharp, and deadly, with perfect balance and weight. Some of her work even had designs etched into the ice. If it were anyone else, he would feel embarrassed to be so far behind, the heir to the most powerful court, bested in weaponry of all things. BUt all he could muster was awe, and pride, because it was Lyria.   
Two. Today was the first time he had seen real fear and doubt cross Ilias’ face since they were infants. Usually in the ring, he reigned triumphant, only trying against Rohan. But Lyria had been 5 steps ahead of him today, the look on his face as her knife hit home in his side… Rohan had never seen that. Rohan had never seen anyone shatter Ilias’ shields. Rohan had never seen Ilias with an open flank like he had today. It was unnerving. Almost as if the pillars of life-as-he-knew-it were shuddering.   
Three. Aesir. Against anyone else, the foreigner would have triumphed. Rohan was lucky that the dark of night was his friend. He hadn’t been able to see anything during that fight. Not even his hands in front of him. He’d thrown all of his trust into his power, using it to feel for his attacker, and his onslaught. Rohan didn’t want to admit it, but it had been a lucky beat today. Lucky that Aesir grunted before he launched each attack. Lucky that Rohan was marginally more powerful, and that his magic could sense each move Aesir took. Unnerving indeed.   
Rohan spun back to face the books. He shook his head with a sigh, clearing all images of Lyria, Ilias and Aesir, and returned to the noble histories of the great wars.


	4. Chapter 4

Weeks passed, and Lyria fell in love with Prythian, almost as much as she was in love with her home. The crisp mornings were perfect for running, with no heat to tire her, and no cold to inhibit her breathing. The midday sun beat down, bathing her world in soft, buttery sunshine. It was somehow both warm and cold, comfortable to wear either tunics, sweaters or dresses if she so pleased.   
She had fallen in love with the people even more so. Walking the streets of Velaris with Rohan and Ilias, she felt the love of the people, not only for the place, but for each other. Their warm smiles and friendly greetings were so polar to the usual hesitance of people back in her realm. The thing that astounded her most however was their acceptance of everyone, no matter your court, or what type of faerie you were. High fae interacted with lesser faeries with the utmost respect and confidence, a sight that she loved, especially coming from a realm so rooted in fear and hatred for everyone who had magic, fae or otherwise.   
The city radiated warmth, love and happiness. With good reason. Rhysand and Feyre were so involved in their home, their community it put her own parents to shame. Where her mother and father had their few favourite outings, most of their time was spent in their castle. But Rhysand and Feyre, it seemed they were friends with every citizen, knowing their name, their children, their business and their hobbies. It was a style of ruling that she loved and admired.   
She had made a mental note to begin adventuring more, to local businesses to meet the citizens of her own home. She wanted the life of Velaris to translate into Orynth.   
Most mornings she would find herself running alongside Xavier, pushing him more than herself as they made their way through the school grounds and surrounding woods.   
Her classes were spent wedged between Rohan and Ilias, both of them fiercely energetic, smart and even more so funny. Often the three were reprimanded for causing disruption… which only made them cause more. When not in class, the three were joined by Alena and Dany - an extremely gifted heir to a realm called Meisa, her magical talents allowing her to control water, and her physical talents allowing her to best Lyria time and time again in swordplay. Xavier also spent time with them, when his classes allowed for it.   
Tonight was one such night, the six of them heading to Rohan’s townhouse for a night of drinking and games, both Dany and Xavier being avid fans of cards and board games. Lyria stood in her room, her silver hair unbound and gleaming in the soft light. She finished tucking her charcoal sweater, a gift from Feyre, into the waistband of her black leggings before standing back in front of her mirror.   
She looked different to when she first arrived. Not only was her fashion different, the close cut pants she wore when she first arrived packed at the back of her closet, instead she opted for stretchy leggings in her free time. Her knitted tunics that she wore out at home were now replaced by comfortable sweaters and coats, as was normal in the Night Court. She continued to wear leather boots almost everywhere, not yet having found a more comfortable replacement. Her hair was longer, reaching her waist now, much like her mother when she was young.   
She felt happier too. More at home in a way. In terrasen, she hadn’t had the friends that she had now. Her friends now had no fear of her, of what was inside her, because it was inside all of them too. It was amazing, to have a group of people who understood the weight of duty, the struggle with the power inside you, who didn’t judge you at all.  
She smiled at herself in the mirror, then headed out the door. Xavier was leaning against the wall outside her door. She turned to face him and his brows slowly rose. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a foreigner look as much like a Night Court native as you do right now”. A grin pushed against his lips. She raised one brow. “Says you? The most summer court attire I see you in is a loose shirt when we’re running” He cackled, “But it’s sOoOoOO cold here, the summer court is like a warm sauna all year round, none of my clothes would protect me from the ghastly cold of the north?” Lyria snorted. “Sounds like the god’s ass crack but alright, if you like it” she held up her hands, “who am I to judge”. He broke into another laugh, a pushed her shoulder lightly. “Let’s get out of here, I’ve got a bag of liquor and 4 board games. I’m ready to get drunk and beat you all.” She laughed this time, before the two set off out of the tower, and winnowed into Velaris. 

They landed a few houses down from Rohan’s, Xavier not quite sure which one belonged to the heir. The pale cobblestone streets were quiet, which was odd, considering it was a crisp autumn evening. Lyria didn’t think much of it, leading Xavier toward the stately home of her best friend. “How often did you visit here as a kid?” Xavier enquired as they were walking.   
Lyria glanced at him. “Well, when I was very young, probably every year. My father felt somewhat… endebted to Rhysand, for helping my mother during the war in our realm.. blah blah. But then my mother and Feyre became close friends, and my dad got along well with Rhysand and Azriel, so we started staying longer, a week here and there… stuff like that. Then Rhys and Feyre started visiting us when I was about 5, and we kind of alternated year by year from then on. I stayed here for a month when I was 9,” she laughed. “That was a fun summer. Rohan was already so much better than me at fighting, but I was stubborn,” She smiled broadly, thinking of the memory, “So I made him duel me every day. And every day I lost.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I remember going home to Terrasen and telling my father, and then it began…” she sighed, gesturing to the open air.  
Xavier frowned. “What began?” He asked.   
“The training, rigorous and hellish, but thorough and somehow exsquisite.” She finished.   
“How much training?” Xavier asked, raising a brow.   
“Well, before coming here for the summer I used to train 4 days a week for about 3 hours with my dad, and after coming home, he basically abandoned all of his kingly duties, and took up my training full time. 7 days a week, 5-6 hours a day, for what is it, 15 years or something?” She shrugged. “I didn’t like it much when we first started, but as I got better, I liked it more, and now I enjoy it. That’s why I don’t really take days off. Some people paint their nails, or take long baths or read for their me-time, but nothing clears my mind or relaxes me more than a long training session.” Xavier stopped in the street and turned to look at her. “You actually trained that much when you were nine?” Incredulity danced in his turquoise eyes. She nodded and his eyes widened.   
“Well, that explains why you could take a centuries old fae in hand to hand” he grinned at her. The laughter dropped out of her eyes immediately and she frowned. “No I couldn’t, don’t be stupid”. Xavier didn’t pick up the shift in her tone.   
“I’m serious, you could.” He laughed again.   
She rolled her eyes, annoyance pushing against her skull. “Oh yeah for sure, if I wanted to be beat to a pulp”.  
Xavier raised his brows again. “I don’t think so” She shook her head quickly.   
“Anyway… after that trip we came every second year, and then things started getting more… intense with my tutoring and training, so I’d come every second trip. Same for Rohan. So before I came to live here, I hadn’t seen him for… what, three years?” She mused, the light returning to her eyes.   
The two turned the corner, approaching Rohan’s house.   
Xavier frowned. “Oh, you guys seemed so much tighter than that”. Lyria glanced at him. “What?” But Xavier wasn’t looking at her, and didn’t see the panic that flooded her eyes for a split second, his eyes roaming the architecture around him. “You guys just seem to move in conjunction with each other, you know what the other is going to say going to do… stuff like that. It’s as if you’ve lived together all your lives” He smiled at her and laughed lightly.   
“Who knows,” he continued. “Once you guys settle fully, you might even be mates”  
Lyria’s heart hammered in her chest, and panic began to flood her veins. Simultaneously her core tightened at the idea. She shoved it back down.  
“Rohan? I dont know..” She trailed off.   
Xavier just shrugged. “Who knows, we’ve still got a few years until you start settle, and he’ll be even later. The wonders of Prythian blood,” he pointed out.   
She laughed weakly.  
They had arrived at the High Lord’s townhouse. Lyria pushed open the gate and made her way up the path. Xavier let out a whistle.  
“Damn I like this house. Should I get one like this in the summer court?” He said, looking around at the garden and entrance.   
She snorted. “Yeah for sure, get a winter chalet in the heart of the summer city, it wont stick out”. Sarcasm dripped from every word. He just smiled in return.   
“Surely not. I think it would be charming”   
Xavier stepped up to the door and knocked, then stepped back, as if he was a young man waiting for his prom date. Lyria frowned, looking at him.  
“What are you doing?” She asked.   
“What?” He replied. She looked at him incredulously   
“Why did you knock?” It was Xavier’s turn to frown.   
“Because its not my house…” he responded, confusion lacing his words. She sighed.   
“Move over.” She bustled past him, pushing open the heavy door and making a beeline for the kitchen. 

Golden light bathed the wood panelled room where the group were set up for the night. Rohan lounged in an overstuffed chair, seated opposite Lyria . Xavier shared the long couch with Alena, each resting at opposing ends. Ilias was sitting on a plush footstool, setting up their game, sorting the pieces and cards, while Dany poured snacks into a bowl, sneaking glances at Alena.   
He couldn’t stop watching Lyria. She was curled up like a cat in the navy chair, the picture of comfort. It made his heart stutter. She so easily fit into his life, into his world. It was almost as like she was meant to be there. She is your mate. Rohan blinked, shoving the thought back down.   
Rohan was a grateful male. Grateful for his family, grateful for his friends, peace in his realm, his education, his upbringing, hell he was even grateful for the climate he lived in. But he was overwhelmingly grateful that all of his friends were too young, and too inexperienced with scent to detect his changing.   
His parents, his uncles… well, he couldn’t tell if they knew, but he was certain that his friends didn’t. This business of mates was too much, for their age anyway.   
He didn’t realise that he had been staring at Lyria, lost in thought, and it was the snap of her fingers that drew him out and refocused him.   
“Do I have mud on my face or something?” She frowned, but a smile graced her lips.   
Rohan shook his head.   
“No, No. Sorry, lost in thought” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Sorry”. He leaned back in his chair.   
She raised a brow, still smiling. “What were you thinking about so deeply?” She asked. He couldn’t tell if it was just him, and his emotions, or if there was an underlying insinuation in her question. No, she doesn’t know. He shut down his inner turmoil, smoothing it over with his ‘heir’ persona, quick witted and cunning.   
“Guess”. He smirked.   
She pursed her lips, her hand moving to stroke her chin. “Hmmm” she stared off into the distance. “The state of court’s finance?” She mused. “Hmm, no that requires less thought than what you were doing.” She narrowed her eyes at him, her mouth stretching into a smile. His heart began to thud under her full attention. “I’ve got it.” She smirked.   
“You were thinking about how great a friend I am for bringing such a fine wine.”  
He held up his hands. “You know me too well, that’s exactly what I was thinking about. Do they teach you telepathy in Terrasen?” He raised his brows.   
“Oh of course! And how to tell the future from cards and how to make rabbits appear out of hats!” She grinned  
“Well how could we compete with that kind of education!” He laughed. He loved this, back and forth between them. The sarcasm, the joking. It was refreshing.   
She tilted her head. “I don’t know, it’s some pretty complex stuff”  
He just laughed, and hers chimed in with it. The harmony was exquisite to his ears. She looked back over at him, a smile still on her lips when Ilias interrupted them.   
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road” he said, standing up. “You all know how to play, so pick your pieces and let’s do it”. He stretched his arms out before bending down and plucking a small wooden figurine from the table, carved into the shape of a bat. Lyria picked the small bird, Rohan the star. Dany went to grab the crab but Xavier beat her to it, earning an eye roll. She instead settled on the sheep, while Alena chose the spider.   
Ilias nodded, shoving the rest of the pieces into the box before finally sitting down. He rubbed his hands together, grinning. “Let’s do this.”

The night stretched on, and board games were replaced by card games, which were replaced by magic tricks and slights of hand, until most of them were too drunk to keep their head upright. Alena went first, snoring into the pillow of the armchair, Dany close behind her. Ilias fell next, passed out atop the intricate floor rug. Xavier fared a little better, making it all the way to the guest room, before passing out with all of his clothes on.   
The pitch of the night sky was beginning to lighten when Lyria finally gave up on chess against Rohan. The two had drunk very little over the night, instead opting for sweet cakes and brownies, leaving sugar coursing through their veins until the early hours of the morning, long after their friends had conked out for the night.   
“Checkmate” he said, a smile lacing his lips. Lips that she had been staring at all night as he had smiled, cheered and bitten them in thought. She had now decided that she wanted to touch those lips, at least once. She had developed quite the fascination with them.   
She focused for a moment, and decided to knock the pieces from the table. “I cannot play you anymore tonight for two reasons” she stated, staring at him.   
he raised a brow. “Oh do tell”  
She cleared her throat. “One. I will never beat you at this game, and it leaves a mark against my reputation to lose this frequently and this horribly.” He grinned. “Two. I don’t think that I could remain conscious for another game”. She flopped back onto the couch and closed her eyes. A laugh emenated from him. “Okay, fair. We probably should go to bed.”  
She heard him rise from the couch and walk over to her. “Come on, you don’t want to sleep here. Mum made up the spare beds.”   
With her eyes still closed, she groaned, burrowing further into the soft couch. “Lyria” He said. But she was already slipping into a deep sleep. She heard him sigh, and then felt his arms slide under her back and legs, hoisting her from her makeshift nest.   
She snapped her eyes open and looked at him. From this close, she could see the tones of indigo, violet and blue running through his eyes. It was breathtaking.   
He looked down at her. “You’ll thank me for this later” he said, smiling softly.   
She groaned, then flexed her legs. “Put me down, I can walk” She said. He obliged, setting her on her feet. She flicked her brows up at him. “You know, I was going to get up.” She said. He just laughed in response, and began walking to his room. 

 

Her footsteps followed him and he turned. “Mum made up the guest rooms for you all” he said, frowning slightly. She yawned. “Yeah, I know, but I put my bag in here, I didn’t know which room was for who”. She shook her head and walked past him, into his bedroom.   
He paused for a moment, his heart beating and sleep pushing at the edges of his vision, before he followed. She was sitting on the bed, her bag beside her as she was rummaging through it, looking for something. “I gotta pee,” he said, “Goodnight”. He strode toward the bathing room attached and shut the door. He proceded to relieve himself before moving to stand in front of the sink and mirror. Shadows sat under his eyes, and exaghstion hung off his body. But he was happy. His skin was slightly flushed, his hair messy, but he was happy. He leant over the basin, splashing water on his face before he left the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt and releasing his wings as he walked.   
He stopped dead in the doorway. She hadn’t made it to her own room. Sprawled horizontally across his bed was Lyria, asleep for the second time tonight. He just stared at her for a second, taking advantage of the lack of prying eyes, the weight of his crown or even her own notice. He wasn’t going to wake her again. He wasn’t sure if she even would.   
A small smile settled upon his lips as he strode across the room towards her. He first moved her bag, placing it on the ground beside the bed. The side he usually slept on, he realised. He then tugged off her boots, carefully placing them next to the bag, before tucking her under the covers.   
A small groan emanated from her, but she didn’t wake, instead burrowed further into the pillow, his pillow. Satisfied, he strode to his closet, quickly changed into a pair of shorts, and slid into the other side of the bed. He rolled to face her, taking in the soft curves of her face, the planes of her cheeks and her delicate eyelashes, until he himself slid into oblivion. 

She woke first. Watery light poked its way under her closed lids. Before she opened her eyes she was certain of three things. The first, this was not her bed. The scent surrounding her was distinctly male, mixed with pine and metal. Second. She was not alone in said bed. A warm arm draped over her side, resting above the covers, while the attached body was pressed against her back. Third, whoever was in the bed with her was still fast asleep, their breathing even and calm.   
She half opened her eyes, the usually white light from the sun a diluted red. She sighed, and closed her eyes again, existential dilemmas such as the changing colour of the sun were not what she wanted to think about this early. She was drifting back to sleep when her muddled thoughts made the connection. Wings. The sun hadn’t changed colour, it was just being obscured by something. wings. She opened her eyes again, and sure enough, a broad, Ilyrian wing was draped over her body, cocooning her in its warmth.   
That narrows it down. She thought, as she moved to rub her eyes. The thin veins of gold were illuminated, backlit by the morning light. These either belong to Ilias or Rohan. She thought. Or I got a lot drunker than I planned. She shifted under the weight of the arm, rolling to face its owner.   
Rohan’s face was serene. His breathing even. Hers was not. He was beautiful, tan skin glowing under the diffused light. Deep within her she knew, this was her home. This moment, in his arms, calm, quiet, just the two of them. This was it.   
She snuggled back into the pillow, content to watch him. He was never so… off guard when he was awake, especially when there were others around. His mouth twitched, pulling into a small smile, and she felt her heart break.  
In that moment, she wished she could ball up her soul and place it within him. Mate. It was overwhelming. Mate. They were so close, but she wanted to be nearer, wanted to be within him, wanted their souls to intertwine. Mate. She felt like she would explode. Mate. Heat began to build in her core, rising up, up. Mate. Rohan shifted slightly, and a tendril of his breath danced along her ear. Mate. A shiver ran up her spine, igniting her bones.   
She knew her scent had shifted, and apparently Rohan, still unconscious did too. There was a pressure on her thigh that hadn’t been there minutes ago. Her blood heated, her heart running overtime. She rolled over, facing away from him, in an attempt to put some space between them.   
Her blood still thrumming, she tried to focus on anything else. Her eyes caught on the gold running through his wings. Iridescent and glimmering, it shifted with Rohan’s every breath. She bit her lip, hesitating. He didn’t usually have his wings out, nor had she seen him let anyone touch them. Not even Ilias. Ever.   
But they were so intriguing. Slowly, she reached out, and gently slid the pad of her index finger along the membrane, following one specific golden vein. Rohan’s body pressed in closer to her and she froze, lifting her finger from his wing.   
He didn’t move again, and she let out a sigh of relief. She moved her hand again, running her fingernail gently along a red vein. Up, up, up. To the tip of his wing, the membrane giving rise to smooth cartilage. She felt Rohan’s body stiffen behind her, but she continued on, this time with the pad of her finger again.   
“W-What”.  
She froze. “Are… You.. Doing” Rohan gasped from behind her, sleep coating his voice. Her finger still rest upon his wing. “I just wanted… to feel them” She whispered, running her finger along further.   
He gasped again his arm tightening around her abdomen, and she withdrew her hand. Behind her, he was panting, almost as if he was in pain. She rolled over to look at him. His face was contorted into a frown. “Does it hurt you?” She whispered.  
“No” he gasped, his breathing slowing.   
She stared at him, watching as his chest rose and fell with less speed. “What’s wrong?” She whispered.   
He finally looked at her. “They’re” he nodded to his wing, still sprawled over her, “very… sensitive” he finished, staring at her. Something primal clanged through her.   
“oh” she said quietly. She still didn’t move. Neither did he. She could still feel him pressed against her thigh. In that moment, she made a decision, and leant into him.  
Rohan’s eyes widened and he recoiled. “S-Sorry” he gasped. She froze. Maybe he doesn’t want this. She moved back, the space between them a gaping chasm.   
The air between them was thick. The scents of their arousal, intertwined, made Lyria’s heart racing, so fast that she was sure that he could hear it.   
She wanted to try one thing. “Rohan” she whispered. The male moved back towards her slightly. “yes” he responded. She let out a breath. “Can I- can I try something?” She whispered. Rohan froze, but after a pause he spoke. “yes”.   
She nodded.  
Slowly she pushed off her side and moved towards him. He remained motionless. His eyes followed her. She paused, hovering next to him. Then slowly, she lowered herself.  
Inch.  
By.  
Inch.  
Until she could feel his breath tickle her lips.   
She paused. His violet eyes were trained on her.   
“Lyria” he breathed.   
She closed her eyes and lowered her mouth to his.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KWESTION: I HAVE LIKE 7000 WORDS ALREADY FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER, BUT I HAVENT FINISHED WRITING IT YET, SO I CAN POST THE FIRST PART OF IT WHICH WILL BE A SMALL CHAPTER, OR YALL CAN WAIT FOR A MIN AND ILL POST THE WHOLE CHUNK WHAT DO U THINK?
> 
> Two things: 1) I did no proofreading on this because I just wanted to get it out :) sorry.  
> 2) my computer died literally 30 seconds after I finished typing this out so feel blessed that I went and charged it to 1% so I could post this :)))))) anyway its a bit messy but enjoy :)

She felt like she was going to explode. Her whole body felt electric, and in that moment, she felt a threat pull tight between them, their souls.  
And she froze.  
Then recoiled. 

As quickly as it started, she was gone. Rohan stared up at Lyria, who was currently poised above him, her face frozen in horror. The blood drained from his face  
“Lyri-“ he began  
She shook her head. “N- I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” She scrambled across the bed, and Rohan barely had time to recoil is wing before she rolled off.  
His head was still spinning. That had been perfect. In his mind anyway.  
“I’ll see you later” she said, bag in hand as she strode toward the door. Her face cold, she didn’t even look at him.  
The warmth, the intensity, the emotions of that moment drained from his body, and he lay there, cold and alone.  
what just happened? He thought, staring up at the ceiling, blinking. He pushed out of the bed, tucking his wings in behind him, and padded into his bathroom. He paused before the basin, splashing his face with cold water.  
Maybe you dreamt it? He thought, attempting to rationalise the events of this morning. He’d awoken to Lyria’s delicate hands running along the membranes of his wings, while being pressed against her. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that before.  
But her scent. He was sure he hadn’t dreamt that. It was unmistakably her, but there was something else. He’d never been able to pick up on emotion related changes - in anyone, until this morning. She wanted him. The scent of her arousal still clinging to the sheets in his room.  
He ran a hand down his face, through his hair. What the hell just happened? He couldn’t shake the image of her face, the pain-or disgust that laced her delicate features as she ran from the room. He shook his head. He breathed deeply and realised with a start that scent was all over his skin. Shit. As much as he wanted to get drunk on that, he knew his parents were even more sensitive to smell than he was, and that there was no way they wouldn’t notice.  
Sadness and confusion clanging through him, he turned toward his bath, to remove all proof that this morning wasn’t just a dream. 

Face flushed, embarrassment coating her veins, Lyria stumbled down the stairs and out the front door. The cold Velaris air bit into her skin, but she barely noticed it. Panic curled in her gut. What have I done?  
Shit. Shit. Shit.  
She couldn’t believe what had happened in that room. What she had done.  
Shit. Shit. Shit.  
She stumbled blindly down the pathway until she reached the street before she shifted, soaring off into the sky.  
Get away.  
That was all she could think. She didn’t even think about flying, barley paying attention to where she was going. She couldn’t go back to her place. If Rohan wanted to find her, he would already be there waiting. Panic flared within her again.  
Where do I go?  
An idea danced against her mind for a split second, and she banked hard, heading for a temple hidden up in the mountains. The air became thinner, the cold slicing against her winged body, but she pushed on.  
She couldn’t face Rohan. Not now. Not ever. She had ruined everything. She couldn’t come back from that. Ever. She could never sit in a room with him, knowing that was what he tasted like, that was what he felt like next to her, and pretend everything was normal. She couldn’t do it.  
She could now see the temple in question, its smooth white stones almost blending into the snowy mountains around it.  
She flew closer, then began to descend, aiming for the snow covered ground a hundred meters from the entrance. Another flash, almost invisible against the bright snow had her clad in leggings and a sweater once more. Her hair was wild, both from last night and her flight this morning.  
She didn’t bother to fix it. Where she was going, it didn’t matter.  
She almost sprinted up the ice clad steps to the entrance, barely nodding to the priestess in the entryway.  
She strode across the domed room, to where she knew she could escape.  
Two flights of stairs down. Turn left. Three doors down, on the right. A black door stared back at her. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing the handle and stepping through.  
Wind ripped at her for a split second, as she tumbled through nothingness, before landing with a thud on lush emerald grass. She didn’t move for a second, getting her bearings before she stood.  
Sprawled before her was the city of Orynth.  
She was home. 

By the time that Rohan was dressed and downstairs, worry had set in. He stood in the kitchen, across from a bleary eyed Xavier. “What time did you finally crash?” Xavier asked, breaking the silence that stretched between the two. “I don’t even know,” he shrugged, “I know that all of you were gone though” he smiled tightly. Xavier let out a laugh, oblivious to Rohan’s tension. Both a blessing and a curse, all of them unsettled hadn’t reached the full might of their power, the heirs even more so. That meant that Xavier couldn’t pick up on the scents clinging to him. Lyria, and panic. He couldn’t find her around here this morning, which was worrying.  
Xavier cut into his panic. “Where did Lyria end up last night? I don’t think she crashed with us” he said, furrowing his brow. Rohan made the decision right then and there to lie. He shrugged. “I don’t know… I think she ended up in one of the spare bedrooms” he nodded, affirming his false truth.  
Xavier nodded in agreement. “Yeah probably. Strange though, I haven’t seen or heard her around this morning.” He looked at Rohan. Panic flared once more.  
But the heir simply frowned. “Yeah me neither…” he trailed off.  
Xavier broke into a grin. “Who knows, she probably decided that it was a good idea to go for a 10km run in the cold. She totally would” he rolled his eyes. “I for one, will be heading back to bed” he said, grabbing a pastry from the counter. “Hopefully next time I see you, there isn’t an unrehearsed marching band playing out of tune inside my skull”.  
Rohan gave a tight smile again, and watched the boy shuffle back up the stairs.  
Now that he was alone again, worry set in. He quickly summoned a writing pad, scribbled two notes; one for his mother, which disappeared immediately, the other for his friends, letting them know he had gone out, and that there was food in the cupboard next to the sink.  
He rest his pen atop the message, walked across the threshold of his home and windowed across the city. 

The olive grass was sparkling under the water sunlight outside Lyria’s home on campus. Rohan crunched across the grounds, heading toward the tower in which she resided. The doors creaked as he pushed them open, the sound slicing through the silence. He made his way up, up the stairs toward her apartment, the soft sound of breathing coming from each of the rooms he passed. The air in the hallway was unnaturally stale though. Void of any lively scents… at least that he could pick up. Worry wormed its way into his gut for the millionth time that morning as he neared her door.  
He paused to listen. nothing. There was no-one in there. She wasn’t here.  
He pushed open the door, the stuffy air telling him that she hadn’t been here today.  
Where the hell was she?  
He closed her door quietly before descending the stairs, thoughts spiralling. What if she was taken. She can handle herself. Where has she gone? Who would she have gone to? I can’t ask my parents, can I? Dad might be able to track where she is. Mum too?  
He winnowed back to his home, worry flowing through him as thick as blood. Frost crusted his coat as he shrugged out of it in the entryway.  
His father appeared around the corner.  
“Morning” he said.  
Rohan barely managed a nod before he made a go for the stairs.  
Rhysand’s brow furrowed as he stepped in front of his son. “What’s wrong” he said, both scenting the panic and reading it upon his heir’s face.  
“It’s, nothing” Rohan said, stepping back.  
“No it’s not” Rhysand fired back. He placed a hand on Rohan’s shoulder. “What is it?” He asked. Rohan lifted his gaze to meet his fathers, staring back at his own violet eyes. “Lyria” he said. Rhysand stiffened, ever so slightly.  
“What about Lyria” Rhys said, eyes scanning his son’s face. “She-She’s gone” He coughed.  
Rhys frowned. “gone? As in home?” He asked.  
Rohan shook his head. “She just left, and I went to her house… she’s not there. She didn’t go there” He ran his hands through his hair again, averting his gaze. “I don’t know where she went. She just… left”.  
Rhysand furrowed his brow. “Maybe she just went flying?”  
Rohan shook his head, “I don’t think so”  
Rhysand’s brow creased. “Rohan what’s going on?” He asked, warily, “Did something… happen?”  
Rohan’s features closed off immediately and he shrugged out of his fathers grip. “No, nothing. Never mind”. He made for the stairs, leaving Rhysand standing alone, in the entryway, concern and sadness lacing his features as his son’s footsteps echoed across the house. 

…

The golden sun beat down on the green lands surrounding her home. The scent of pine and snow flowed around her, delicate and sweet. Lyria sighed a breath of relief. The tension and worry that had wrapped around her heart in Prythian had eased under the warm Terrasen sun. Her footsteps crunched across the white stone path as she picked her way toward her home. The walls of the city rose high above her, but she stepped off the path as it neared. She walked towards the river that snaked around the side of the city, calmly stretching its way from countryside. Reaching the height of summer, the river was low, and easy to freeze. She slipped silently down the dry banks and took a step onto the mirrored surface. The water below froze, giving her a stable platform to walk upon.  
She tested her weight on the ice, gently pushing off the bank to balance.  
Satisfied she had frozen far enough down, and anchored the ice to the shore, she took off down the river and into the city. 

Although the water was frozen beneath her feet, the tunnels she walked through were sticky with humidity, the air thick and heavy. The sweater she had from the Night Court clung to her, making her sweat. She pulled the fabric away from her body, heaving a sigh, trying to create some cool air. She had blown wind in from the fields, but that had just made the close tunnel even warmer, and had soon given up. Just ahead she could see a small walkway, turning off from the main stream. The royal chambers. She noted, smiling to herself.  
She had used this passageway many times in her life, often with her father as they escaped the city to train in different climates and areas.  
The thought of seeing her father warmed her heart. It had only been two months, but she missed both her parents dearly, their love, their energy… nothing in Prythian could quite compare. Nothing in Prythian could comfort her like her mother’s golden hair and her father’s familiar tattoos. Except Rohan. Rohan. Worry coiled in her gut. She shook the thought from her head. You’re home. You’re home. She stepped off her homemade ice-bridge onto the paved walkway, the frozen water melting instantaneously.  
Ahead was a door, enchanted and made of pure silver that connecting to a staircase, winding up to the royal chambers. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and pushed open the door, and silently ascended the stone stairway. 

The sitting room was silent as she pushed open the heavy oak door. The silver and emerald furnishings made her heart swell with love. She breathed deeply. Home. She walked over to the couches she had spent many nights sprawled on, and sat down, her weariness hitting her all at once. It had been hours since she’d been in Rohan’s bed. Mere hours. Sadness crushed against her, threatening to envelop her. I fled. It was perfect, and I fled. I ran away like a three year old. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. What have I done. She thought. How can I go back, after I ran away? I disappeared from his realm! What Have I Done? She rolled over onto her face, and lay there motionless, thoughts of this morning swirling around her head. She was so focused on the images in her mind that she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the tower behind her. 

“Lyria?”  
Lyria shot up, torn from her self deprecating spiral. Across the room stood her father, poised at the threshold, staring at her almost disbelievingly.  
Her face slackened, overwhelmed by how much she had missed him. “Dad” she exclaimed, throwing herself out of the chair and flinging into his arms. He crushed her into a hug, holding her wordlessly for a moment before pushing her back.  
“What are you doing here?” He asked, searching her face for any hint of injury. His eyes caught briefly on her clothes, noting the foreign attire before shooting back to her face.  
She averted her eyes, blinking rapidly, “I- I” she didn’t know what to say. Her breathing sped up and panic set in.  
Rowan shook his head, pulling Lyria back to him. “What happened Princess?” He asked again. Lyria couldn’t speak. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, her breath shallow. “I- He’s…”. She burst into a sob. “I can’t go back” she hiccuped into her fathers neck.  
Rowan didn’t pull away, holding his only child close to him as she sobbed. 

Lyria didn’t know how long she spent in her father’s arms. She did know that when she finally withdrew, she felt infinitely better than she had before. Her face red and puffy she stepped back from her father, his face softened into concern. “Go get cleaned up” he said. Lyria rubbed her face, nodding. She turned to head up to her bedroom, and was halfway across the room when she spun. “Don’t tell Mum I’m here”, she said. Her father just nodded. Satisfied, she took to the stairs, leading up to her bedroom. 

An hour later, she emerged from her bathing room, smelling of jasmine and soap, hair curling slightly from the steam, wrapped in a fluffy blue robe. Sunlight poured through her window, staining the stone floor a golden yellow. Lyria crossed her bedroom, directly to her dressing room where she sank down onto her cream ottoman in the centre of the closet. Tunics, dresses, and close fitting pants stared back at her, of varying colours lengths and textures. Once, this was a room that made her overwhelmingly happy. Now, she ached to pull on a knitted sweater and leggings. The feeling washed over her, like a weight had been placed on her shoulders. With a sigh she grabbed a navy tunic, black pants and black boots, shoving herself into them. Looking at herself in the mirror again, she sighed. The dark colours offset her skin and white hair, making her appear wraith-like. It unsettled her. She rubbed her eyes, turning to head out of her room, the emptiness suddenly uncomfortable. 

The hallways were silent except for the sound of her boots lightly scraping the stone floors as she went hunting for her mother. Room to room she went, all to no avail. She was about to give up hope when a snort sounded, from nearby. No-one else would laugh like that, she thought, taking off after the sound. She slipped down the hallways silently, and found herself heading towards the gallery above the throne room. She slowed as she reached the doorway, ducking so that she could see between the banisters. Below on the parquet floor stood- or rather spun- her mother and father. Flames dusted the wake of each arc, her mother’s laughter following close behind. Lyria smiled, she had missed this. The innocent fun her parents never ceased to have, their stolen moments of joy. It was beautiful. She remained crouched there, watching for some time, as her parents waltzed to a music seemingly only they could hear, their giggles and laughs warming the space.  
Lyria’s heart clenched. She knew, there was only one person who she could ever have that with… and she had ruined all chance of that. Sadness coated her veins as she rose to lean against the railing, her legs tingling.  
Below, her parents continued on, lithe and confident in each step they took. Until Aelin stumbled and stopped mid step, Rowan crashing into her moments later.  
“What-“ She began, frozen in Rowan’s arms, her eyes fixed on Lyria above. Lyria stretched her lips into a tight smile, her throat already constricting. “Surprise” she whispered, turning from the balcony. Aelin, still leaning on her mate looked to him in disbelief. Rowan just raised a brow a shadow of a smile gracing his lips.  
Aelin’s face contorted in shock, before she hit his shoulder. “You knew!” She gasped. She didn’t have time to finish chastising her mate before her daughters footsteps sounded across the throne room floor. Aelin was running moments later, hurtling toward her only child. “Baby” she whispered, crushing Lyria into a hug.  
Tears pricked at her daughter’s eyes, and before she knew it she was sobbing again. Rowan watched from a distance, the two most important people in his life, back together again. Even after centuries of life, his throat tightened at the image of the two, bowed together, silver tears glistening on each of their faces. They looked like fallen angels.

Aelin pushed back against her daughter, putting space between them. “What are you doing here?” She gasped. Lyria squeezed her eyes shut, a tear falling from her lashes. “I…. I had to, I couldn’t stay… I- It’s too-… he…I… just couldn’t” she looked at the floor, her hair falling like a silver curtain, obscuring her face. Her mother knew not to push, not now. Instead she enveloped her again in a hug, pouring all her love into her daughter. 

…

The High Lord of the Night court had spent the morning hunting for his son’s best friend. No sign of her anywhere, almost as if she’d vanished. Her the scent at her apartment, more than a day old, though he did notice his son’s fresh one, just hours old. He couldn’t find her anywhere in the city. Azriel was already looking out for her, and as Rhysand opened the door to his home, the silence indicated that Rohan had too.  
His son had become so closed off, to him especially in the last few months. He was hiding something. Rhysand didn’t want to guess at what. The reality would be too painful. He crossed into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea. The sweet scent of chamomile wafted up his nose, reminding him of peaceful nights spent with Feyre, drinking tea and reading books. He smiled at the memory, so long ago.  
The house seemed to ooze silence, where life usually was, in the form of Rohan or Feyre or The inner circle, now stretched empty air, quiet and undisturbed. Rhysand straightened. Where is Lyria? The last place Rohan saw her was upstairs. So that was where he would look. His soft steps padded up the staircase, and into the second floor living room. Couches were left slightly askew, pillows piled on one end, glasses and board games littering the central table. Rhysand couldn’t help but smile. The room in the same state when Cass and Az had stayed the night when they were young, drinking and talking until all hours of the morning. He crossed the room and headed up the hallway, lined with extra bedrooms, big enough to fit Ilyrian warriors. He opened the first door. Stale air brushed against his senses. The beds were made perfectly, no sign that anyone had slept there last night. He shrugged, closing the door. At the second bedroom, Rhysand was greeted again by cold, empty air. And the third. And the Fourth. Frowning he walked back to the living room.  
Rohan had said that Lyria had “just left”. Assuming that she had stayed the night, Rhysand ascended the stairs up to the next level. Here lay Rohan’s room, Mor’s room when she crashed here, and two other spares. Again, the first two were empty, void of any recent life. Mor’s room only whispered of his cousin’s presence, days ago. That left Rohan’s room.  
Rhys paused. Should he do this? He chewed on the inside of his cheek, lips pursed as he rest his hand on the doorknob. Is this too far? So what if she slept in here? What if there are clues? He weighed up the choice, then twisted the knob and strode into his son’s room.  
The scent hit him. Rohan. But not just Rohan, and not as Rhysand knew him. Lyria’s scent was intertwined with his son’s, unmistakable and pure. Undercutting that was like a blow to his gut. Ageing and staling, he couldn’t miss it. Arousal, from both parties. His eyes widened and he took a step back. A final scent whispered past him that made him stop dead in his tracks. Although each was different, an unclaimed mating bond was unmistakable. And this one was tied to both his son and Lyria.  
Rhysand stumbled back, slamming the door before disappearing in a flash of black. 

Rhysand winnowed into Feyre’s studio in Velaris, eyes slightly wild. His mate immediately set down the bottles she was carrying and shot to his side. “What’s wrong?” She asked. Rhysand couldn’t even conjure the words. Instead he reached for his wife, opening his mind to hers. Seconds passed and Rhysand watched as her eyes widened, before disbelief settled across her features. She took a step back. “how?” She whispered, gazing at the wall. Rhysand shook his head. “I- I don’t know”.


	6. Chapter 6

Rohan returned home that night, exauhsted and worried. He had winnowed around the city, to al the places they usually went, searching for Lyria, to no avail. He opened the front door, the smell of lamb wafting from the kitchen. Usually, the smell of dinner was accompanied by his parents laughter, flitting across the house. Tonight, it was quiet. 

He took off his coat and paused, straining his ears to hear. Nothing. With a frown, he walked into the kitchen. Both his parents were standing there, locked in conversation, in their heads. Some of the tension of the day dissipated as he too in the familiar sight of his family. As he approached they both snapped out of it, turning to face him.   
Rohan raised a brow. “Is conversation too much effort or are you talking about my birthday presents?” He asked, a ghost of a smile on his lips. His father’s eyes widened, before he coughed out a laugh. “your mother and I have since decided that talking is too much effort, so were trying out this new system in which we only talk to peoples minds. So far, the only person comfortable with it is your mother… Cassian wasn’t very impressed.” His father grinned. His mother followed suit, although her eyes betrayed her worry.   
Rohan shrugged it off, running with his parents lie. So why are we talking then? He asked to their minds. Rhys smiled, We wanted to let you in on the joke first. Rohan nodded. Fair. So, whats for dinner.   
Chicken pie! His father’s eyes lit up. His mother still didn’t say anything, although a small smile was etched on her face. His father gestured to the dining room. Shall we?  
Seated at the table, the three finished up their remaining pie, crumbs flaking around their plates, already going soggy. Still, they had not spoken aloud, their brief conversation occurring within their minds. Rohan, usually opened his mind, almost entirely to his parents, knowing the extent of both their daemati abilities. Yet today, he kept a section of his mind aside, locked and barred, disguised amongst trivial things, hidden from both his parents.   
His father placed down his untensils. Any news of Lyria? He asked.   
Rohan stiffened momentarily. No. He responded.   
It was his mother who cut in next. She can look after herself. She’ll turn up.   
His father nodded in agreement. Rowan is pretty into exposure training. She might be spending a day doing that?   
Rohan nodded. Yeah… maybe.   
His mother offered a small smile. You can always talk to us… You know that, right?  
He averted his eyes, but responded. Yeah. I know.   
Feyre nodded sadly. Under the table, Rhysand reach out to clasp her hand.   
Rohan was the one to break the silence, pushing back from the table and sending the plates to the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be in my room”. He strode out without another word.   
Feyre and Rhys looked at each other helplessly as they watched their only child battle with a weight they couldn’t help with. 

…

Lyria lay on her parents enormous bed, her father sitting atop a pillow next to her head, her mother laying beside her. So similar, yet so different. Lyria’s silver hair, the opposite to her mother’s gold. Their golden skin warmed under the setting sun, pouring in from the open windows. They had moved up here when Lyria had finished sobbing. again.   
Her mother spoke first.   
“Lyria. What are you doing here?”  
“Aren’t I allowed to visit home?”  
Her father spoke before her mother could. “Of course. But no letter? You didn’t even come through the gates”  
Her mother nodded. “Normal visits don’t usually entail this much crying” she said, looking at Lyria. “What happened?”  
Lyria squeezed her eyes shut, her chest constricting. “I- “ . She couldn’t speak. Her heart sped. No no no no no no no no no.   
Her father placed a hand on her shoulder, the weight a homely comfort. “Lyria. Whatever it is, you can tell us”.   
She nodded, eyes still closed. The lump in her throat had shifted, barely.   
She pressed her lips together, and the air seemed to still.  
She released a breath.  
Opened her eyes.   
“I found my mate”  
She felt her father fall deadly still beside her, hand still upon her shoulder. She thought he’d stopped breathing. Her mother, propped herself on her elbow, tears lining her eyes. She smiled, “congratulations baby”. She pressed a kiss to her forehead.   
The tension and the weight began to unravel in Lyria. Still present, but… less.   
It was her father’s turn to speak.   
“how” was all he said.   
Aelin shot a look at her husband, the male staring at nothing, not looking at either of them.   
“Rowa-“  
“How” he repeated.   
Lyria’s heart dropped. “What do you mean ‘how’?” Cut in her mother.  
Rowan looked at them, finally. Tears had gathered in his eyes. “You haven’t even settled” he said. The fact hit Aelin moments later, and she too, turned to look at Lyria.   
“How do you know? That they’re ‘the one’” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be able to tell things like that… not yet”  
Lyria closed her eyes again.   
“It’s a feeling, and a scent, and, well, I just know. It’s my whole body screaming at me, IT’S HIM, IT’S HIM, IT’S HIM. It’s this…security, this safety, this… sense of home, that I feel when I’m around him. When I’m with him, if I could open up my body and give him my soul, I would want to. I want him to know me. All of me. All of my scars, my fears, my insecurities, I want him… no- need him to know. It’s as if I have been floating around all my life, untethered, but I didn’t realise it until now, because now I know how close I am to being tethered.” She finished.   
Her mother was smiling down at her again, eyes rimmed in silver. Her father wasn’t looking at Lyria, but at Aelin, as if everything his daughter had just said he wanted to say to her.   
“Congratulations” she whispered again, placing a hand on her daughters cheek. Happiness radiated from Aelin, a tear slipping down her face as she stared at Lyria. “I’m so happy for you” she smiled, another tear running tracks down her cheek.   
Rowan moved, to place a kiss on her forehead. “Congratulations” he said, smoothing his daughters hair.   
Lyria sat up, and embraced them both. The security she felt in that moment was almost on par as she had last night, in Rohan’s arms.   
Her mother broke away, wiping at her eyes. Her father continued to rub circles across her shoulder blades, comforting and stable.   
Her mother smiled. “So. Who is he? You said it was a he?” She raised a brow, still beaming.   
Lyria smiled back, and looked to her father, where a grin softened his face. She exhaled, gently hitting her knees as she straightened her back, locking eyes with her mother.   
“It’s Rohan”   
Instantly, cold swept through the room, and her mother’s face slackened. Tears began to fill her eyes as she looked at Lyria. “Oh baby” she placed a hand on her daughter’s, pain lining her features.   
Lyria stared at her mother, panicked. “Mum, what’s-?” She whipped her head around to look at her father. His hand was over his mouth, brow furrowed.   
Lyria frowned, blinking frantically. “What’s going on!” She demanded.   
Her mother just began to sob, tears streaming down her face. “Oh baby” she repeated. “I’m so so sorry” she whispered, tears streaking her face.   
Her father stood, a hand resting on her shoulder again.   
“Let’s go for a walk” he said. Lyria rose without a word, following her father out of the room. He shut the door behind them wordlessly, and started down the stairs. Bewildered, Lyria followed, thoughts spinning around her skull. They made it out to the gardens, before Lyria stopped short.   
“Tell me what the hell is going on.” She said.   
Her father stopped dead, his shoulders moving up and down slightly. He slowly turned to face her. “Lyria- not here” he said.   
She wouldn’t give up. “Tell. Me.” She said.   
Her father strode toward her, stopping about a meter away.   
“Lyria”  
“Tell. Me.” She ground out.   
“I’m sorry” he said.  
“Tell. Me”  
“Rohan.” He said. Pain spread across his face.   
“my mate”  
“he can’t be”. Her father averted his eyes, something he never did.   
Lyria’s heart stopped.   
“What?” she whispered.   
“He can’t be your mate.” Rowan repeated.   
She blinked. “Why?”  
Rowan shook his head. “You can’t tell him. Anything”   
She glared at him. “Why?” She repeated, venom lacing her words.   
Rowan squeezed his eyes shut. “Lyria. You can’t rule two kingdoms in two seperate realms. And nor can he.”   
Cold spread through Lyria.   
“I don’t care”  
“It can’t be”   
“I dont care”  
“It’s impossible”  
“I dont care”  
“Lyria”  
“I dont care”  
“Lyria”  
“This was a mistake.” She hissed. “I never should have told you”  
“Lyria” Rowan pleaded.   
“Of everyone, I thought you would understand. Understand what its like to have a mate, a mate that you can’t be with.”  
Rowan cringed.   
“Lyria I do, it’s just that it’s impossible, you can’t rule like that. You both have duties, duties to your realm”  
She curled her lip back. “Fuck the realm” she spat.   
“Lyria” her father yelled.  
“No. Fuck the realm! Fuck duty! Fuck all of it!.” She yelled back, spinning on her heel.   
Anger, and pain rose inside Rowan. “Lyria please”  
She walked off, without looking back. 

Inside the castle, she headed straight for the royal living rooms, straight to her escape. Not stopping to say anything, see anyone or take anything, she descended the slippery stairs back to the sewers, and fled across the water. Years of training and months of maintenence left her swift and agile, clearning the emerald hills she had hiked down just this morning. The sun setting behind her, she headed into Oakwald, to where she knew a portal could be opened.   
Images of her parents, her fathers words, swam through her mind as she cleared logs and picked her way over streams. Fuck the realm she thought, she couldn’t go back to pretending he wasn’t her’s. She glanced around, taking in the grass, the thick trees and the delicate smells of pine. This may well be the last time she ever saw Erelia. She reached the peak of a hill, and spotted it. The small temple, hidden in the forest, known only to the royal family. Unmanned, and ungaurded, within lay a labyrinth of portals.  
She broke into a run sliding across the stone entryway and down the stairs as fast as she could. She knew her father would be close behind. He wouldn’t let her go back. Not when it risked losing her forever. But if she stayed, she would loose herself anyway.   
A series of corridors lead her to a door, painted navy. The plaque beside it reading: Prythian. Night Court. Velaris. Below lay Rohan’s insignia, the mountain crowned with three stars.   
She sighed, looking around one last time. Footsteps sounded down the stairs and moments later, her father appeared.   
His eyes softened. “Lyria, no” he pleaded, moving towards her.   
She didn’t even whisper goodbye as she flung herself through the doorway and into a world of night flecked darkness. 

Moments later, she was crashing through the doorway on the mountain outside Velaris. Taking a moment to gather orient herself, she pushed up off the ground on wobbly legs, blinking rapidly, her vision spotty. She knew her father could be seconds away. She stumbled down the hall, clutching the wall for support as her body adjusted back to this world. Her vision finally clearing she made for the exit. Behind her, she could hear the portal swelling with energy- someone was coming through. 

Shit.She threw her energy into her legs, running towards the open entryway. She almost slipped down the steps, still slick with ice. A worried yell from a priestess followed her as she continued to stumble down the stairs, conundrum coming from the inside of the temple. 

Shit. Before her lay carved steps, leading down the mountain. To her right, a stone wall, to her left, snow… and a ledge. The mountain dropping away at a sheer angle. She threw her head around, only to hear her father’s voice ringing from inside the temple. Shit. She ran to the ledge and flung herself off, a flash of white light turning her into a hawk. She banked hard, clearing the jutting mountain and looped back, perching on a branch, giving her vantage of the temple, hidden from view.   
Her father stepped out of the temple, panic lining his features as he scanned the sky, looking for her. She watched as tears began to slip from his eyes, as he stood motionless. She didn’t know how long he stood there, staring out at nothing as tears rolled down his cheeks, before he turned back to the temple. It was like a dagger to the heart. Dad. She waited for hours, frozen on that tree until finally she forced her limbs to work.

So she flew off into the snow, her old life left behind. 

Rohan lay on his bed, sketchbook unopened beside him. The sheets still unchanged, the scent of this morning still swirled around him, both exhilarating and gut wrenching. He shifted slightly and a tendril of this morning greeted him. He was reaching for the top button of his trousers when footsteps sounded on the stairs by his room.   
He shoved off the bed, almost sprinting into his bathroom as Rhysand knocked on the door.   
“Rohan. Can we talk?” Sounded his father from outside.   
Rohan splashed water on his face, hoping to wash away his previous intentions before he called back in a strangled voice, “Come in”.  
As his father did, Rohan slid into the fascade of the heir, straightening his back, ruffling his hair and striding calmly back into his bedroom, careless and arrogant.  
He hated this persona, he knew it was important to have, but he still hated it. Even more so he hated that he was using it when he was home. Revulsion sat in his gut.   
Rhysand was standing beside the door, hands in pockets, watching his son.   
Rohan flicked a brow up. “yes?” He paused a few meters from his father, casually crossing his legs.   
Rhysand frowned slightly, reading his son, and the walls that were around him. He let out a breath through his nose. “Can we talk?” The high lord paused. “Honestly?” He added.   
Rohan’s act faltered, his shoulders drooping slightly. “Of course” he said.   
Rhys nodded. “Good. Good” he repeated.   
Silence stretched between the two, and Rohan looked around his room, eyes snagging on his bed momentarily, before he focused back to his father. Rhysand, who had been watching his son was now staring at the bed, pain flickering in his eyes.   
Rohan cleared his throat, snapping his father back to attention.   
“So, what do we need to chat about?” He asked.   
Rhysand let out a breath, hesitating. “Can I ask you something?” He said.   
Rohan moved his hand to his mouth and began pulling on his lip, then nodded.   
Rhysand hesitated again, before crossing the room to sit in one of the armchairs. “It’s about Lyria”  
Rohan’s heart stopped. “Have you found her?” He asked, worry coating his words.   
Rhysand nodded. “yes we did-“ he sighed, “but that’s not what I need to talk to you about”  
Rohan didn’t have the ability to worry about the second clause of his fathers sentence, relief washing through his veins. “WHere?” He gasped, voice breaking.   
Rhysand smiled sadly. “She used the portals, north of Velaris.”  
Rohan stilled. “what?” He whispered. His father stood, walking over to him. “She went home” he said, placing a hand on Rohan’s shoulder.   
Despair threatened to overcome him, flooding his soul.   
“I’m sure she’ll come back” Rhysand said, pulling his son into a hug. Rohan accepted, holding tight to his father. They stood there, motionless, holding each other for some time.   
“Rohan” his father finally said. “Lyria-“  
Rohan cut him off, still holding onto his father. “is my mate” he whispered.   
Rhysand pulled away from him, looking him in the eyes. Sadness welled. “Yes” he said. “She is.”  
Confusion clouded his son’s eyes. “Wha-? How do you know?” He stuttered, blinking rapidly.   
Rhys let out a breath. “The scent, of your mating bond” he looked around “it’s here”   
Rohan looked around. “So it’s true?” He whispered.   
His father nodded. “Congratulations.” He said, but sadness danced in his eyes.   
Rohan didn’t even notice. A weight that had rest upon his chest had been lifted. My mate. He began to laugh, tears slipping down his face. His father laughed too, pulling him back into an embrace. The two stood there again, laughing against each other, until a gentle knock sounded at the door.   
Rhysand pulled away, smiling. “Your mother wants to say something.” He said as the door opened. Feyre stood there, beaming. “Congratulations baby” she said, holding her arms out.   
Rohan didn’t hesitate, moving into his mothers open arms. “She’s my mate” he whispered against her neck, and Feyre just laughed. “I know. Congratulations”. The high family of the night court stood together, laughing and crying until suddenly Rhysand stood up.   
“Rohan” he said. His son whipped his head to look at him. His father paused. “Someone just came back through the portals”.   
“Lyria,” he breathed. Feyre looked to Rhys, who nodded in confirmation.   
His eyes widened. “I have to tell her”.  
Rhys stilled. “Rohan,” he looked at his son, “is that the best idea?”. But Rohan was barely listening. “She has to know. You know and she doesn’t. I have to tell her” he repeated. Feyre shot a look at Rhys, communicating down their bond. Rhys stepped forward, “Rohan, wait” But Rohan was already across the room. “I can’t go back to pretending” was all he said before he slipped out the door, leaving his parents standing in his room, staring at each other worriedly.


	7. Chapter 7

A knock sounded at Lyria’s door. Who the hell? She thought. She had returned mere hours ago, ditching her Terrasen clothes in a pile by the door and sliding into her Night Court attire. She frowned, rising from the armchair she had been curled in. Across the threshold stood Rohan. His midnight hair disheveled from flying, a flush in his cheeks, he stared at her intently. His eyes shone, with…pain?   
Shock roiled through her.   
“Rohan… I-” Silence stretched. He remained frozen at the threshold, yet his muscled arms seemed to quiver. “Rohan?” She repeated tentatively. Still no response from the heir. She took a step forward and placed a hand on his forearm.   
Rohan snapped.   
He stepped forward and took Lyria’s face between his hands. “Lyria” he whispered, his violet eyes now stormy and troubled. Taken aback, Lyria widened her eyes, her heart slamming against her ribcage. “Rohan ar-“ was all she managed before he claimed her mouth with his own. His scent, pine and iron filled her nostrils as she tasted him, and fireworks lit beneath her closed lids.   
As suddenly as he had stepped forward, he retreated, his back to the wall, eyes wide. “Lyria, I’m so sorry” he shuddered, rubbing his hands over his face. Lyria blinked, trying to take in exactly what just happened. “Rohan. Rohan. It’s okay.” She said, moving to close the still open door. Rohan just watched her, his hands still covering his mouth and nose. She turned to face him, hand still on the door, her silver hair glowing in the low light of the living room. “Rohan, are you oka-”,  
“You’re my mate”.   
She froze. He knows. Lyria averted her gaze.   
Silence stretched between the two. Rohan was breathing raggedly, eyes shining.  
She lifted her eyes to meet his.   
“I know” she whispered.   
Rohan froze, then shook his head slowly.   
“What did you just say?” A deadly silence filled the air, void of noise and either of their powers.   
She stared at him, unblinking.   
“I know Rohan”.  
Disbelief crossed his features, replacing the pain that was there before. Their eyes locked in an unbreaking stare. The only noise in the apartment was the sound of the lock clicking as Lyria spun the handle.   
Rohan’s eyes shot to Lyria’s hand, and understanding crossed his features. She strode towards him. His hands still covered the lower half of his face, as he watched her approach, and stop before him, their feet an inch apart. She reached up and slowly removed his hands from his face, brought them to her mouth and gently kissed them, before letting them drop. All without breaking eye contact.  
“I know” she whispered, as they stood facing each other. He could hear her heart hammering against her chest, at the same rate his own was.   
She knew. She knew. She knew.   
“Lyria” he whispered, and she closed the distance between them twining her fingers in his hair as she pulled his face down to meet hers.   
The taste of her. He would drown in it if he could. There was no gentleness in this kiss, it was the clash of teeth, the rush of adrenaline and the undiluted wanting, to be closer, to be within each other. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he bit back a groan. Never before was it like this, as if his body was melting and he wanted it to. He kissed her harder, with even more fever, as if that was possible, and she groaned into his mouth.   
He snapped, pulling her against him, their hard bodies against each other. He reached his hand up to caress her cheek, and withdrew, so that he could look at her in this very moment. Her silver hair floated around her head like a halo, offsetting her tan skin. Her blue and gold eyes sparkled, with more than just excitement. Her lips, plump and red, smiled up at him, inviting him in for more. More of her. More of them.   
And they were kissing again, moving toward her bedroom. Lyria kicked open the door as the two tried feverishly to entwine their very souls. She moved her hands from his neck, sliding them into the opening of his tunic. A groan erupted from deep within his throat. She grinned against his lips. Her hands made quick work of the buttons of his tunic, and before she knew it his chest was bare, gleaming in the moonlight streaming through her window.   
Her breath caught in her throat. Ilyrian tattoos graced his shoulders, swirling and ancient across his chest and arms, his wings peaking over his back. She regained eye contact with him. “They’re new” he chuckled. Then reclaimed her mouth with his own.   
Her hands were everywhere, his arms, shoulders, chest, torso. And he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. It was as if a trail of blazing fire crackled where she touched, and he wanted to burn in it. He reached around and undid the ties on her own gown, a short, royal blue number, and watched as it slid to the ground around her, revealing a shimmering set of white lace underclothes that left little to the imagination. It was his turn for his breath to catch. “Beautiful” he whispered, taking in the smooth curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts and the planes of her abdomen.   
He reached out and ran his fingers along the curve of her stomach, up, up, up until he reached the underside of her breast, and Lyria’s core tightened as his hand moved higher. He looked up in question, hesitating. They both knew this was a line. But it was one that she was willing to cross. She reached up, and pulled his face to hers. “You’re my mate” she whispered against his ear. It nearly undid him.   
He caressed her breast as he kissed her, and she felt as though she was going to explode. Her skin felt too tight, and the only way to make it better was him. This male. Her mate. She groaned as he pulled her against him, and for the first time, she really felt the considerable length of him… and just how hard that length was.   
She slid her hand over the planes of his chest and down to his waistband. Pausing for a moment, before sliding her hand beneath. He groaned as she held his member within his trousers. Then began working him. He kissed her passionately, as they moved towards her bed, the sheets bathed in moonlight. When she felt the wood of the frame against her knees, she spun, Rohan now against the bed. With deft movements, she unclipped his belt and slid his trousers off, leaving them on the floor near her dress.   
She paused for a moment, her hand still around his cock, as she eyed its true size, unencumbered by his clothing. Then she moved forward and kissed him. Rohan slid his hands around her back and unclipped her bralette, leaving her bare from the waist up.   
Rohan sucked in a breath, in awe, before bending down to kiss her neck, her collar bone, her breasts. She arched her neck back, the vulnerability of that movement not lost on him. He slid his teeth along the sensitive skin of her neck, eliciting a growl from above. Rohan smiled against her skin and continued on his path, the taste of her setting him off.   
With one breast between his teeth, Rohan reached down to slide off her flimsy underwear, leaving both of them completely bare and vulnerable. One hand slid between her legs, greeted by her wetness, as he worked the apex of her thighs. She groaned and twined her hands in his hair, then pushed him back against the sheets.   
She stepped into the pool of moonlight, and it was all Rohan could do to remain where he was. Her blue eyes were fixated on his, as he stepped towards her. “Lyria” he whispered. She paused. “My mate” she said, “You’re mine” . He allowed his power to flow out of him, and pools of midnight flowed off the bed. She took a step towards him. “My mate” she repeated. His wings flared. He had never had them out in the bedroom before, but with her. His mate. He would.   
She reached the side of the bed. Crawled over him, sliding one leg on either side of his abdomen to straddle him. “My mate” she whispered. Rohan fisted his hands in the sheets, even harder than before.   
She was beautiful. There was nothing in the world that could compare to her. Warmth emanated from her, pushing back against his midnight tendrils.   
“Rohan” she whispered. He locked eyes with her as she slid down onto him, inch by inch. “My mate” he whispered. In one fluid motion she slid down to the hilt, taking the full length of him. The ends of her hair began to glow, the flames reflecting red against her silver hair. She rose again, without leaving him completely, reached for his face, and slid back down onto him  
This was it. He could die right now. He rocked his hips to match her tempo, as she kissed him. There was nothing gentle about this union. There was longing, and pain and want and love. But it was pure lust that drove him in and out of her, over and over again.   
Rohan removed himself from her, just for a moment, and flipped them over, his hands braced on either side of her head, his member poised for reentry into her. He ducked his head to kiss her. Her neck, her breast, her stomach, and as he reached her pussy, he paused. She squirmed, his head poised centimetres from her.   
“please” she breathed.  
“What am I?” He ground back, hovering inches from her.   
“You’re mine” she breathed. He ducked his head and kissed her pussy, momentarily.   
She whimpered.  
“What am I?” He repeated.   
“My mate” she whispered. “You’re my mate” she repeated, louder. That was all the encouragement he needed. He dove back into her, tasting the very essence of her. She groaned above, and he placed one of his hands flat against her muscled abdomen. Her hand slid down from her breast to catch his, and there they lay, hands joined as he feasted on her. “Rohan” she breathed. “please” he looked up, his violet eyes sparkling. “please” she whispered again. In one swift motion, he slid into her and claimed her mouth. Groans rolled from both of them as they rocked together. “My mate” he whispered between kisses. “My mate” she retuned.   
Fireworks were going off all over her body, in her mind, her mouth, her breasts, her pussy. And then she was on fire. A harmless flame surrounded her limbs shining bright against Rohan’s darkness.   
Lyria reached up and slid her fingers in his hair. Then down his neck, and finally across the sensitive membrane of his wings.   
Rohan plunged into her, pleasure singing through his entire body. A groan erupted from him as he arched his neck, baring himself to her. At the same time, climax shuddered through her, rendering her almost immobile in that second.   
The only sound in the room was their shared breathing, as Rohan bent down to kiss her, a long, gentle and unhurried. So polar to the ravashing need of the previous hour. Resting his head against her, whilst still inside her, they locked eyes. “My mate” he whispered.   
Lyria smiled. “You’re mine”, then she reached up to take his mouth once more.   
Rohan removed himself from her and almost collapsed beside her. She smiled up at him, pleasure clouding her eyes.   
“Come here” he whispered, as he lay against her pillow. Obligingly, she slid across the sheets and tucked herself beside him, sprawling a leg over his own. He reached around and held her against him, draping an arm over her shoulders. “My mate” he whispered.   
Lyria just nuzzled into his taught body, her eyes closed. 

“Everyone will know” she whispered, some time later. “Hmm” replied Rohan, already slipping into the most peaceful sleep he had ever known. “Our scents. We can’t hide this. Even our friends will pick it up” she whispered again. His eyes snapped open, but his breathing remained calm. After a moment he spoke. “It’ll be okay. We can deal with it tomorrow”. But she was already asleep, in her mate’s arms, dreaming of the millennia that they would share, together. 

Light was streaming through the uncovered window, gently stirring Rohan from his peaceful sleep. Eyes still closed, he stretched out, expecting to find his mate. Except the bed was empty. Panic washed through him. It was all just a dream. He snapped his eyes open, only to find that he was in Lyria’s room. And that he was still naked.   
He smiled to himself as the images of last night came flooding back to him. Lyria. He sat up, straining his ears to find her. Surely she didn’t train this morning, he thought as he looked around. A light trickle of water snagged on his ears, and he rose out of bed to follow it.   
He didn’t bother to cover himself, walking quietly into the bathroom to find Lyria submerged in the tub, back to him. He leaned against the door frame for a moment, watching her in wonder as she gently trickled water through her fingers.   
Gods, she’s…everything.   
Quiet as a cat, he snuck up behind her, and slid his arms around her neck. She tensed for a moment, before leaning back into him, tilting her head so that she could see him.   
A small smile played on her lips. “Good Morning” she mumbled, closing her eyes.  
Rohan leaned in, planting a kiss atop her head. “Can I join you?” He whispered, his breath caressing her ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. After last night, that’s all he wanted to do. Forever.   
She opened her eyes, a grin spreading across her face. “Of course. You are filthy” she said, locking eyes with him. He grinned back, walking around to slide in across from her.   
Settled in the water, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Where girls in the past had hidden their face, or averted their eyes, Lyria remained, staring back at him, a brow raised.   
“How’s the water” she asked calmly, her own hands floating on the surface.   
He bit his lip. “A little cold, to be honest”. He raised his brows in suggestion.   
Lyria simply nodded, pausing for a moment.  
She tilted her head.   
“Hmm, I mean..” She stretched her arms up in the air, rising out of the water slowly. Rohan watched wordlessly as it ran in rivulets down her chest, over her breasts and dripped back into the bath. She looked at him again.   
“I could think of a way to… warm you up” She smirked.   
Instantaneously, his blood began to sing. He remained beneath the water, pursing his lips. “I’m all ears” he replied calmly.   
She took a step toward him. His eyes fixed on her face, not straying to her body.   
“Well” she said, taking another step. She was now toe to toe with him.   
“I hear the fastest way to warm up is skin to skin contact”  
Their gaze remained locked. Rohan gulped.  
Lyria began to lower herself down, atop him.   
His heart sped, his breath becoming shallow.   
“Lyria” he breathed.  
She fully lowered herself to him, adjusting slightly to the stretch.  
“Rohan” she whispered, leaning her head to rest against his.   
He reached to place a hand on either side of her face, sliding his hands along the soft skin of her cheek, her lips.   
She closed her eyes, and he rocked against her, eliciting a gasp. Her head arched back in pleasure and he followed her, capturing her mouth with his. 

After last night, he wanted to go slow. To feel every moment, every movement. His kiss was lazy. Luxurious. He drew himself out of her slowly, before he slid back in, inch by inch. He felt her smile against his mouth, and he laughed. She rest her head against his, looking into his eyes, before she too, began to laugh.   
He stared back at her before, a smile resting on his lips as he whispered, “I love you”  
Her laughter faded, and she placed her hands on his cheeks. “You are my mate. I love you”   
Warmth filled his heart and he slid back out of her. He removed his hand from her face, trailing it down her chest, her stomach until his arm was fully submerged. Her eyes clouded for a moment, before he slid back into her, fingers rubbing small circles against her clit.  
The breath was pulled from her, before she leaned forward, claiming him once more with her mouth. 

And there they stayed, surrounded by water, wrapped in each other’s breath until the sun was high in the sky. 

…

The two finally escaped her room in the mid afternoon, Rohan wearing his crumpled clothes from last night. When he had walked out of the bedroom, Lyria couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like you’ve gone through hell in those clothes” She grinned. He just rolled his eyes, a smile on his lips. “Well, I have. Last night was hellish. Terrible. Hated every second of it.” He laughed, and she bumped his shoulder.   
Although Rohan could winnow them back to Velaris, back to his house to change, he insisted they walk. “Is it a crime to want to take a calm autumn stroll with my mate?” He said when she held out her hand to winnow. She frowned. “No, I just thought you’d want to change… or be less… visible” she shrugged. He paused, and she stopped two strides later to look at him. “I’d never want to hide us” he said plainly. Worry shone in her eyes. “I know but…”. He just shook his head, striding to her. “You are my mate. I’m not afraid of what anyone will say. What anyone will think.” She nodded, reaching for his hand.   
He smiled, and they began walking again down the gravel path out of the institute.   
A few minutes later he spoke. “How did you know?” he asked.   
She kept looking ahead, but answered anyway. “In one sense, I’ve always known. Since we were little. There was just this…pull to you, I guess. I wanted to be near you, to train with you, to laugh with you. Of course, I just thought we were friends, superficially. Neither of us were settled, and we were about 15 or so… you were just a friend who I wouldn’t mind sleeping with.” He looked at her incredulously, and she laughed. “I think things began to shift for me around then though. There was no-one else that could quite fill your space when I went home, or you returned to Prythian. Don’t get me wrong. I tried to fill that chasm. Boys, Girls, humans, fae… It was fun, but it wasn’t you. I think it just about slapped me in the face though, the first time I saw you after I moved here. You and Ilias were flying back to Velaris one night, and deep down, some chord in me was plucked. Ever since then, there’s been this… string between us. This voice in the back of my head chanting It’s him, He’s your mate. mate. Mate mate mate. Sometimes I wanted it to shut up, but it made too much sense. The more time we spent together, the more impossible it was to ignore it, and then the other night… well morning. I couldn’t stop myself.”  
Rohan was staring at her. All these years she had an inkling. All these years, she had been dealing with the weight of knowing what he was. He stopped for a moment, confusion spread across his face.   
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.   
She shrugged. “We were 16, unsettled, and living in different realms.” She said simply.   
He nodded. So rational. More so than he could ever be.  
It was her turn to ask. “When did you know?”  
He ran a hand across his face. “Much later than you did, but then again, I don’t think there was anyone who amounted to you. You know after we had dinner with my parents… the first night or second night you were here?” He asked.   
She nodded.  
“It was after that. We were in my room, talking about our futures. You said to me ‘I don’t think I’ll ever have a mate’. It broke me somehow. All this anger and pain and wanting came pouring out of me. But I didn’t say anything. No-one has a mate before they’re settled, so I figured I was just really sad for you? I don’t know, but then the more I saw you, the more I came to the realisation that you did have a mate, and that it was me.”  
She squeezed his hand. “I feel different now” she said.   
He frowned. “How?”  
She looked to him. “Before, it was like there was a pressure on my neck. Not that I noticed it, but now its gone, its amazing. I feel like I was wearing a mask before, and all of a sudden I can feel the sun on my face.” She shrugged and shook her head. “It sounds so stupid.”  
He laughed. “It does, but I feel exactly the same” She grinned at him. “I guess we’ll be stupid together then”  
He stopped, pulling her close to him. They were free of the institute grounds, and Rohan seized the opportunity to hold her close. It was like he had never known home before. Nothing. Nothing compared to the feeling of her in his arms, the faint sound of her heartbeat, the smell of her.   
He pulled away after a few minutes. “We should keep going” he smiled, and she tucked herself close to his body and continued on.   
Quips flickered between the two for the rest of the journey and it wasn’t until they were minutes from Velaris that he asked. “How do we actually become mated?”  
Lyria shrugged. “In Erelia, it’s not a super formal thing. You just are. But most mates get married” she said.   
“I thought there was some food component?” He said confusedly.   
She frowned. “Food component?” She burst out laughing.   
He followed soon after. “I’m serious!” He exclaimed. “I thought there was some ‘I give you food’ aspect” he grinned.   
She rolled her eyes. “Or maybe you’re just hungry and want one of my famous grilled cheeses.”  
He shrugged, holding up one hand in surrender. “I mean, that sounds like a bonus?”  
She just smiled and sighed. “I guess we ask your parents then?”   
Rohan nodded. “I guess we do”.  
The two made their way into the city, winding through the streets tucked close to each other until they reached Rohan’s home.


	8. Chapter 8

The house was quiet when they entered. Rohan bent to kiss her forehead before striding into the kitchen, leaving Lyria to hang her coat in the foyer. Across from her hung a large mirror, and for the first time today, she stopped to look at herself.   
Her cheeks still flushed from the cold, there was a light in her eye that hadn’t been there before. Her silver hair was windswept and in need of a brush, but she was radiant. She smiled at herself, unable to contain her joy. With a start she realised how content she was in this moment, how perfect the last 12 hours had been.  
She was still ogling herself when the door cracked open behind her.   
She spun around, only to find Azriel and Morrigan bustling through. Mor’s face lit up as soon as she saw her, then froze. Azriel moments later.   
Her scent. shit.   
“Uh… hey” she gave a small wave. “I’m gonna go find Rohan” she stuttered, before flying into the kitchen in search of her mate.   
Mor and Azriel stood in the doorway, staring at each other, confusion spelled across their features.   
Lyria threw herself around the corner into the kitchen, colliding with her mate, who was currently standing at the sink, glass in hand. He reached out to steady her, frowning slightly.  
“What’s going on?” He asked.  
“Mor and Azriel are here!” She whispered, worry in her eyes.   
He frowned again, confusion clouding his face, then it dawned on him. She stared at him, her brows raised. “They know!” She whispered again.   
He snapped his head to the doorway. “Oh shit” he breathed. He grabbed Lyria’s wrist, pulling her toward the other staircase leading up to his room.   
She couldn’t help but laugh, easily keeping up with him as they slid along the polished wood floors. Rohan had no traction, having left his shoes at the door, his socks slid across the floor effortlessly. He tried to stop, reaching out to brace himself as he neared his bedroom door, Lyria moments behind him, to no avail and with a thud, his shoulder connected with the wood. Lyria followed a heartbeat later, crashing into his body with a laugh.   
He grinned down at her as she laughed, curled in his arms against the door. He just shook his head, and opened the door, leading them in.   
She stepped away from him, and made a beeline for the bed, still laughing.   
“Oh my god. Oh my god” she chanted, but she couldn’t help smiling.   
Rohan stood watching her, running a hand on his face. “So much for dealing with it” he said. A cackle emanated from the bed, where she lay. “Oh my god” she repeated. She tilted her head to look at him. “What do we do?” She said, both worry and amusement coating her words. Rohan just shrugged.   
“Well… they were going to find out anyway” he placed a hand over his mouth again, hiding his laugh. Lyria rolled up into a sitting position. “We should we go and talk to them.” She said. “Seems a bit suspicious, just bolting like that” she widened her eyes.   
Rohan nodded, chuckling. “Yeah probably”.  
Neither of them moved, and Rohan burst out laughing again.   
He reached out for her and she rose to clasp his hand. He made for the door, but she remained stationary. He threw a glance over his shoulder at her, frowning lightly.   
She pulled his arm, drawing him closer to her before she kissed him.   
He almost melted. She slid a hand up to cup his jaw, pulling him closer. A small groan came from deep within him, and he felt her smile against his lips. She withdrew, her pinky tracing his lower lip.   
He didn’t move back, but flicked his eyebrows up.   
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked.   
She just smiled, then turned to walk out the door. He bit his lip, watching her go, then hurried behind her. 

Mor and Azriel were in the sitting room, sprawled on the stuffed chairs by the fire. They were whispering to each other as Lyria walked in, offering them both a smile. She indicated behind her. “I found him” she said, moving to take a seat on one of the chairs opposite the two. Rohan followed moments later, nodding to Azriel and smiling at Mor, before moving to perch on the arm of Lyria’s seat.  
Mor flicked a look at Azriel, who remained unaffected. Rohan spoke first. “Is dad having a meeting or something?” He asked casually. Mor kept darting her eyes between Lyria and Rohan, debating on what to say. Azriel answered for her.   
“Oh no, Mor just had some things to drop off for Feyre, and she promised her lunch. I had some things for your Dad, so I came with her” he offered a small smile.   
Mor snapped to attention. “Oh yes, I just left them on the counter…” she said distractedly.   
Rohan just nodded, and quiet enveloped the room, unspoken words resting on each of their tongues. Mor kept glancing at Azriel, who was watching Lyria closely. Rohan couldn’t help but stare at his mate, flicking his gaze back to Mor.   
The sound of a lock clicking broke them each from their trance, and they all turned to watch as Rhysand, Cassian and Feyre bustled into the foyer. Mor basically jumped out of the chair, rushing to hug Feyre. Azriel fared better, nodding to the two before calmly rising out of his chair.   
Rohan strained his ears, hearing muffled whispers between Mor and his mother. Tension suddenly wrapped around his heart, as he took in the male scents. His muscles tightened, but Lyria calmly placed a hand on his knee, drawing his attention.   
He looked at her, focusing on the gold in her eyes. You’re so beautiful he said into her mind. Her eyes widened, and he realised this was the first time he had used his daemati gifts around her. He smiled at her, ta daa! He called in her mind and she grinned at him. She suddenly looked away, and he followed her gaze.   
Standing in the doorway was his mother, silver lining her eyes as she watched them. Wordlessly, she crossed the room and pulled Lyria into a hug. “Congratulations” she whispered into her shoulder, holding on tightly. Rhysand paused for a moment, then followed his wife into the space, running a hand along her back. Feyre pulled away, smiling widely at her mate, before she moved to embrace Rohan.   
A warm smile sat on Rhysand’s face as he enveloped Lyria in a hug.   
They withdrew from each other, and Rhysand moved to stand beside her, quietly talking to their son. The male paused, looking bemusedly at the doorway. Lyria followed his gaze, to see Mor, Azriel and Cassian crowding the entryway, expressions of shock, disbelief and cool indifference painted on their faces.   
Mor pushed forward. “Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” She said, looking between the four. Rhysand just laughed. Cassian moved to see better. “Me too! I would also like to know what the hell is happening!” He exclaimed.   
Feyre moved away from her son, tucking herself in beside Rhysand, almost glowing with happiness.   
Rohan looked to his parents. What do I do?  
Rhysand just inclined his head. Tell them. Or don’t. It’s up to you. But for what it’s worth, I think they’ll be thrilled to know.   
Rohan looked at Lyria, and couldn’t help but smile. He stood, and Mor watched as he reached for Lyria’s hand. She wove her fingers between his, and leaned against him. Azriel was still watching quietly from the doorway, analysing the situation.   
Cassian tapped his foot impatiently. “I can’t speak in your heads. Tell me what’s going on”.   
Rohan smiled. “We’re mates” he said simply.   
Mor’s jaw dropped, and Cassian looked to Rhys, confusion coating his features. Azriel simply lifted an eyebrow, unruffled by the situation.   
Lyria turned her head to smile at Rohan, and he squeezed her against him. Mor was still watching them. “Gods above” she breathed, before she pulled the two of them into a hug. Cassian was frantically looking between Rhys and Azriel, both of who were watching Mor coddle the two.   
Azriel spoke next.   
“How?”  
Mor stepped back, looking at them. “I second that. How? Neither of you are settled?” She sputtered, plopping back down into one of the chairs.   
Rohan just shrugged, looking to Feyre.   
Cassian sighed. “Well shit. Congratulations” he said, moving in to hug both Lyria and Rohan.   
Azriel looked to Rhys again. The High Lord just shrugged. “Look at both their lines. They’ve got the power of 100 fae between the two of them.”  
Azriel just nodded, before turning to face Lyria. “Congratulations” he said, but made no move to touch them. Lyria nodded her thanks to him, she could feel Rohan’s tension beside her.  
Cassian had seated himself in a chair next to Mor, both of whom were watching the new mates with great interest. Rhysand cut in, pulling their attention. “Why don’t we have some lunch” he said. A snap of his fingers and platters of cheese and fruit appeared on the coffee tables, followed by carafes of water and wine. Rohan moved, taking up residence in the armchair next to his mother, pulling Lyria onto his lap. A thrill ran through her, but she shoved it down. Being in a room with five almost ancient fae, she didn’t want them all to know what Rohan’s touch did to her.   
Although she was sure they did, all three males stilling suddenly, before refocusing on the food before them.  
Lyria’s face burnt in mortification. Rohan simply slid his hand along her leg in a comforting gesture, before he spoke into her mind. It’s not like they didn’t already know. She nodded, and felt his laughter rumble within her mind. He was smiling at her, looking more peaceful than she had seen him for months. She couldn’t help but smile back. 

…

Rhys was watching them quietly from across the room, the rest of his family talking excitedly to the new mates. Feyre, sitting beside Mor noticed his silence and shot him a look. What’s wrong? She asked down their own bond. Without breaking his stare, he responded. Someone has to tell them.   
Feyre rose from her chair, and clasped his hand. We can give them this. Time. It’s better they have something, rather than nothing. She smiled sadly, turning her head to watch as her son stared into his mate’s eyes, knowing that it wouldn’t last.


	9. Chapter 9

That evening, when the inner circle had left, Rohan and Lyria were sitting together on the upstairs couch talking quietly. Feyre approached, knocking softly before entering.   
She offered a warm smile. “Rhys and I have some business up in the mountains. We’ll be gone for about a week”   
Rohan nodded. “When do you leave?”   
“Tonight” she responded.   
“Oh. Alright then” he said, pushing up off the couch to embrace her. “How long for” he asked.   
“At least a week. I’ll send a message when I know exactly.”  
She pulled away from him, and walked to where Lyria was sitting, embracing her.   
“Keep him safe” she whispered before she pulled away.   
She nodded to the two again before descending the stairs. Moments later, Rohan heard the front door close, and quiet descended over the house.   
He walked back to the couch, offering Lyria his hand.  
“Tired?” He asked.   
She took it, and they made their way into his bedroom. Rohan closed the door, and he heard a thud as she sprawled across his bed. The sheets had been changed, and their scent no longer clung to the pillows, he realised as he approached.   
Lyria’s eyes were closed, her body stretched across both sides of the mattress, but she had set the fire going, it quietly crackling in the corner. He lay beside her, and she smiled, curling her body slightly towards him.  
Slowly, he placed his hand atop of hers, before gently running his nails up her arm, over her sweater. She pressed her lips together, a smile still sitting on her lips as he paused at her collar of her top. He waited. One breath in. One breath out. Then bent forward, kissing the spot, just above her collarbone where his hand had just been.   
Her breath caught, but he paused, removing his hands from her.  
She waited, and seconds passed, the air between them electric. Slowly, she felt him move beside her. She ran her tongue along the back of her teeth in anticipation.   
Suddenly his breath was caressing her ear.   
“Can I kiss you?”  
Her eyes flew open and there he was, hovering just beside her. Words escaped her, at the care in that simple sentence. She nodded, and slowly he bent down, capturing her mouth with his.   
It was sweet, unhurried, like waking up late on a Sunday morning. He braced an elbow beside her head, careful to miss her hair before withdrawing. He gently traced the outline of her face with the back of his thumb, a small smile on his face.   
“I will never get over this” he whispered, then ducked his head again, his lips making contact with her jaw.  
Then her neck.  
Her collarbone.  
The gentle swell of her breast.   
He paused, a hand resting on the bottom edge of her sweater, face, inches from her chest, to look up at her.   
She reached down slowly and placed her hand atop his, slowly guiding him under the fabric of her sweater, across her abdomen, leaving him to rest against her breast.   
He dipped his head, pressing his lips against the skin below her navel.   
She gasped, threading her fingers through his hair.  
Gently, placing a kiss for every inch, he slid her sweater up, until it was resting just below her chin. She laughed, breathy and short, as he again worked his way up her neck, and onto her lips. He kissed her lazily, his hand running small circles along her hip.  
She arched into it, trying to get closer to him.   
He smiled against her, before pulling back to look at her. She followed him, pushing up to a sitting position, their faces inches from each other. She pulled the sweater off, throwing it behind her.   
He gulped.  
She moved forward, pulling his face down to meet hers. She wasn’t gentle. She wasn’t slow. She needed to taste him. Right now.   
A chuckle came from deep in his chest and he pulled back again.   
“I thought you were tired?” He grinned. She lunged forward again, but he pulled back further, gently biting his lip in amusement.   
“Bully” she groaned, flopping back onto the mattress. Aware of her every action, she widened her legs slightly, gauging his reaction.  
He watched her for a moment before he spoke again. “I guess we could stay up a little later”. He moved forward, sliding one knee between her opened legs so he was atop her left thigh. She watched his every move, barely breathing, the slight brush of his pants on her sending sparks up her spine.   
He paused, before he placed his fingers at the waistband of her leggings, and began dragging his thumbs up either side of her abdomen. Her skin felt alive, blazing with his touch. She arched her back, leaning into his touch as he scraped gently.  
Stomach.  
Ribcage.  
Breast.   
The thin black lace she was wearing was barely a barrier, but still, she wanted it off. Wanted to feel him against her. She gasped as he ran slowly over her nipples, the touch sending electricity all over her skin. Finally, when she was sure she was going to burst into flame, he reached her collarbones, fingers stilling against the straps of her bra.   
She opened her eyes to see him, looking at her. Lust had clouded his eyes, but still there was a question there.   
She reached up, clasping his forearms. “take it off” she breathed.  
He needed no more encouragement.   
Moments later, the thin scrap of fabric was strewn on the floor, leaving her bare from the waist up. Again, but only one hand this time, he began his trek, sliding his thumb across the unmarred skin. When he reached her breast, he slowed, paying special attention to her nipple.   
She gasped with each touch, wanting more more more. Suddenly, he replaced his finger with his mouth and she moaned in pleasure. One hand fisting she sheets, she reached down, placing her hand atop his bulge.   
Almost instantly, his hand was atop hers, removing it. She gasped, and he lifted his head from her chest to look at her.  
“tonight” he ground out. She stared at him, her body zinging. “tonight… I just want to taste you” he finished.   
Her mouth tightened into a small ‘O’, and he dipped his head back, resuming his exploration of her body.   
Beneath him, she groaned and writhed as he tasted her skin, making his way down to her waistband. He paused again, looking for confirmation. Her skin was alive, bursting to be released. She nodded, pulling his head down to her skin. He continued his trail of kisses, peeling her leggings off, inch by inch. When they were gone, she lay there, almost convulsing with her need for release. But he didn’t give it to her, instead, trailing kisses up the inside of her legs, until he reached the apex of her thighs.   
She wanted to rip off her thong.   
She wanted him buried inside her.  
She wanted to burn with the lust she had for him.   
He continued his trail of kissed, atop the thin slip of fabric covering her. She bucked her hips, wanting more of him. Wanting him in her.   
He just chuckled, sitting back slowly.  
Her breathing was shallow, hot with desire.  
She sent a line of flames around her waist, burning away the barrier between them.   
Rohan burst out laughing.   
“It’s not funny” she groaned.   
He grinned down at her, moving forward so that his face was inches from hers.  
“It is. A little”. He was still grinning.  
“Please” she whimpered, rocking her hips to feel him against her.   
In one swift motion he slid back, his lips finally caressing her pussy.   
Involuntarily, her hips bucked against him. He reached up, splaying one hand across her abdomen as he continued to feast on her.   
She writhed under his touch, grinding against him.   
“Rohan” she moaned.  
The sound of his name on her lips almost undid him. Her scent. Her taste. He could never get enough of it. He slid a finger inside her, focusing his tongue on her clit.   
“Shit. Shit” she moaned.  
In answer he slid another finger in.   
Release shattered through her, her body shuddering before relaxing completely.   
He withdrew his fingers, rising slightly.   
She was watching him, a light sheen of sweat across her brow as he placed his fingers in his mouth, the last taste of her for tonight.   
She pulled his face toward her, kissing him deeply.   
When they pulled apart, she smiled broadly, before laughing.   
He smiled, his brow creasing in confusion. “What?” He laughed.  
She shook her head.   
“No, no… its nothing” she laughed. “It’s just, I’m naked, and you’re still wearing a full outfit” she giggled.   
He looked down. It was true. He was still wearing his shirt, pants and socks from earlier that day. He laughed too.   
“I’m sure we can fix that.”  
Moments later, he too was naked. She placed her head on his chest, looking up at him from under her lashes. “I love you” she whispered.   
His heart swelled. “I love you” he replied, curling his arm around her.   
The fireplace slowly died down as the mates talked quietly, long into the night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao it has just occurred to me that none of the italics in my pages document have transferred to AO3, so sorry about the last 9 chapters. at some point, ill go through and fix it, but not right now! enjoy xo

At first light, she slid out of Rohan’s arms, the cool air making her hair stand on end. She padded across the room silently, slipping back into her clothes from last night.  
With one final glance back at Rohan, his face serene, she left the room, closing the door with a soft click. 

The sky was painted French blue as she flew above the city. Few were awake, and the streets were almost all vacant. What felt like minutes later, she landed on the grass of the Institute, and in a flash was back in her fae form. The grounds were silent, the only sound was her steps crunching on the icy grass.  
It was only when she closed the door to her apartment that she took a moment for herself. I’m mated? The thought was still surreal. She quickly went about changing out of her weekend clothes and into some training gear, before shoving a few uniforms and casual clothes into a bag. She hurried out of her apartment, aiming to be back before Rohan woke up.  
She pushed the door to the stairwell open, and nearly ran smack into Xavier. He stumbled back, stretching out his hands to stabilise her. She let out a breathy laugh.  
“Lyria!” He exclaimed, moving in to embrace her. Arms around her, he froze, then pulled back suddenly. “W-what?” He stammered, his brow creasing as he stared at her.  
She pressed her lips together, a smile forming. “Rohan and I-“  
Xavier shook his head. “Obviously.” He cut in. “But what the-“  
It was her turn to cut in. “Mates. We are. Rohan and I. He’s my mate. It’s Rohan” The words tumbled out of her mouth.  
Xavier’s eyes widened. “What? How?” He sputtered, his mouth dropping open.  
She laughed. “I don’t know.” She glanced around. “I don’t know.” She repeated, beaming at him.  
He smiled back, stepping to embrace her again. “Well, congratulations” he whispered as he held her. She smiled into his shoulder.  
When they pulled apart, he finally noticed her bags. “Heading back to Romeo?” He laughed waggling his eyebrows.  
She nodded with a grin. “Well yeah… but I’m coming to classes today” She added  
Xavier nodded, smiling. “Perfect. Though I still want to hear about how it all went down.” He wiggled his brows again, and she bumped his shoulder.  
He feigned a groan, laughing.  
“All in due time” she laughed, then winked at him.  
His mouth dropped open for a moment, but then he smiled at her, stepping aside to let her pass.  
“I’ll see you later” she called, already jogging down the stairs. He called back to her, but she couldn’t make out what he said. Reaching the bottom she pushed open the door, the sky now a lilac bloom and shifted, soaring into the early morning air. 

…

Rohan kept his eyes closed, reaching across the bed for his mate. She wasn’t there. 

His heart skipped a beat and his eyes snapped open. Sure enough, the bed was empty, the sheets still crumpled, and warm. _She hasn’t been gone for long _. He rubbed his eyes, shaking the fog of sleep from his mind. Weak, watery light was pushing itself under the curtains, trying to illuminate the room. With a sigh, Rohan rolled over, swinging his legs out from under the covers and into the cool morning air.__

____

Her bags were gone, but he wasn’t worried. Instead he slipped into the bathroom to wash his face. The cold water cleared his head, dripping down his neck and onto his chest. He stretched, the pressure between his joints clearing with a crack. He paused hands in the air at the strain in his muscles. They were tight.  
He hadn’t trained in almost a week. He stretched again, his legs protesting with each pull. _Training. Shit. _He had completely neglected it. And himself. Unless he counted his _workouts _with lyria, his muscles had been left stagnant since last week.____  
He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face, looking at himself in the mirror. There were no dark circles under his eyes, his violet eyes bright… He looked happier, more rested than he had for months.  
_Mated. _He thought to himself. It was crazy. He loved it.  
He stepped back, exhaling, before heading back into the bedroom. __

_____ _

He couldn’t help but as he walked past the bed, the sheets still twisted and ruffled from where his mate had slept the night before. _And will sleep for many nights to come. _  
He strode over to his wardrobe, pulling out both his uniform for the day, and a set of training clothes, throwing the close fitting shirt and loose shorts before heading downstairs.__

____

The kitchen was silent as he set the kettle and went about making breakfast. _She’s probably on a run, _he thought, taking out bread and cheese. He made a sandwich for himself, toasting it in a pan before making hers. He was pouring coffee into two mugs when he heard the front door open.__

____

Bustling with her bags, she rounded the corner, her face lighting up when she saw him. “Morning” she chirped, setting the clothes on the kitchen table before wandering over to him and sliding onto the kitchen bench. Hand outstretched, he offered her the other half of his sandwich before placing hers in the pan.  
She smiled, taking the warm bread from him, cheese oozing out of the side. She ate quietly, watching him as he cooked the second sandwich.  
“Want to train this morning?’ She asked, mouth still full.  
He looked over his shoulder at her. “Yeah. Definitely. I don’t think I’ve trained in a week or so” he laughed.  
She laughed too, swinging her legs against the cabinets below. “Is this an early excuse for when I beat your ass?” She asked, feigning horror.  
He just waved the spatula at her over his shoulder.  
She poked her tongue out at him before hopping off the bench and sliding her arms around his waist. She pressed her head against the fabric of his shirt, breathing in his scent.  
“I missed you” she said into his back.  
He turned, dipping his head and placing a kiss on her lips in response. He reached behind him and offered the other sandwich.  
She laughed.  
But took it anyway.  
He laughed, placing the pan into the sink. “I’ll be back. Shoes” he said, walking towards the stairs.  
She nodded, continuing to eat the sandwich. When she was done, she placed the plate in the sink and moved to go after Rohan. She made it two steps before it happened.  
One moment, she was walking towards the stairs, the next, the walls seemed to go out of focus. Somewhere deep inside of her, in her very soul she felt something change. Something shift. She doubled over, the breath rushing out of her. The world felt right. And wrong. Off kilter.  
And then it was gone. Just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Her vision cleared, the rushing in her ears quieted. She could still feel it. A tether. Sealed in magic.

The mating bond. 

…  
He stood across from her, the wooden staff in his hand a welcome weight. Early morning sunlight sliced across the room, bathing her in its glow. She grinned at him, her hands empty at her sides. He tightened his grip on the staff, springing forward. Only to miss her completely.  
Two fluid steps and she was out of his way, laughing lightly to herself. In the time between the kitchen and now, something about her had changed. She was glowing.  
He spun, facing her again. Her hands remained empty, her stance relaxed as she stood in the centre of the ring. A growl of amusement and frustration escaped his lips as he stepped forward, positioning himself a few meters from her.  
“It’s not training if you just run away” he said.  
She laughed. “Maybe not for me, but for you” she raised her brows “it’s crucial”.  
He lunged for her, hoping to knock her with his staff. Instead he was met with an icy staff of her own making, blocking him completely.  
She grinned wickedly, before sweeping out her legs, knocking him flat onto his back. Moments later she was poised above him, her staff resting inches from his throat.  
She tilted her head to the side. “Have a nice trip?”  
He rolled his eyes, sighing, and she pulled the staff away, walking across the room. He sat up, reaching for his own weapon. As he stood, darkness leaked into the air, coiling and swarming across the floor.  
She spun just in time to see as liquid night crawled up her body, temporarily blinding her. He was expecting anger, frustration. But she just laughed.  
“Bring it, boy-o”  
He lunged, his feet hitting the matting with a thud. Step. Swing. He swung his staff out, only to be met by her own. The crash of their weapons rang out across the room.  
He withdrew, and she stepped back, still blind.  
Step.  
Swing.  
Block.  
Step.  
Swing.  
Block.  
Every offensive motion she met, dancing across the mat, ducking and twisting out of his warpath. She never landed a blow, but nor did he.  
In exasperation he dropped the veil, swinging out at the same time, hoping to catch her off guard. But she dropped, rolling out of the way before he could make contact.  
He swore, but she was already on the offensive.  
Step.  
Swing.  
Step.  
Swing.  
They moved with the grace and rhythm of trained dancers. She pushed forward, forcing him to retreat. He stepped back, then ducked, her staff slicing through the air inches above his head. He rolled to the right, keeping ahead of her tirade.  
He swept out his leg, and for the first time today, she came crashing down to the mats. He almost stopped in disbelief, a smile stretching across his face.  
Three quick steps carried him to stand next to her, his staff resting along her jawline.  
He raised a brow. “crucial?”  
She snorted, and he pulled the staff back. She pushed up into a sitting position, smiling. “I mean, you did notice that I maintained whilst BLINDED?” She laughed.  
He joined in, sitting down beside her. “I am begrudgingly impressed” he said, wiping the light sheen of sweat from his nose. He looked to her. “How did you know where I was?”  
She smiled. “You sound like a herd of elephants” she slammed her hand onto the mat, the sound echoing around the room. Slam. “I’m Rohan” Slam. “I don’t” Slam. “know what”. Slam. “stealth is” Slam. She laughed at him.  
He burst out laughing too, their voices blending together.  
Their laugher wound down and she stood. He looked to her, and she held out a hand. “Come on, hand to hand”  
He rose, nudging the staff off the mat with his foot as she crossed the room, pulling bandages off one of the shelves. She returned, offering the bandages in her right palm, and her left hand to him. Gently, he wound the strip of cloth around her hand, securing it by her wrist before moving to the right hand.  
She flexed the bandages, testing their tension, as he finished her right hand.  
“Did you ever consider working in the morgue? Mummification is one of your up and coming talents” she teased. He smiled at her, still working on her right hand.  
“There. Mine?” He asked, securing the bandage on her right wrist.  
She nodded, picking up a second set of bandages from where she had dropped them on the floor and starting her complex wrapping pattern.  
She focused on his hand, looping the fabric around his fingers and palms. He watched her, he was standing close enough that he could see the light lines beneath her eyes, the light creases around her mouth and the gleam of sweat on her brow.  
She dropped his hand, pulling his arm towards her to start her second wrap. Each brush of her fingers against his skin felt exquisite, calming yet exciting at the same time.  
She stepped back, flexing her fingers beneath the wraps, looking at him.  
“Kicking?” She asked, stretching her arm across her chest.  
He grinned. “Wouldn’t be fun without it” he said, and winked.  
She grinned back at him, stepping fully onto the crash mat. She jerked her head at him.  
“Come on. I don’t have all day” she said, cracking her knuckles.  
He stepped forward onto the mat, standing about a meter from her before grinning. He didn’t give her time to think before he leapt forward. BANG. She lifted her arm just in time to block him. But he pushed on. Step. Attack. She barely had time to think, his onslaught consistent.  
She grunted, extending her leg. She made contact with the side of his knee, enough to throw him off balance, but not enough to get him down.  
She took advantage of it. Two quick jabs to the abdomen had him stumbling back again. _Too confident _, she stepped up to him, only to feel his knee connect with her hip.__  
She grunted, unable to regain her balance as she crashed to the floor, the air rushing out of her lungs. He stood beside her, arms crossed, a smug smile on his face.  
“How was your trip?” He asked innocently.  
She rolled her eyes. And kicked out her leg. He saw her coming, and neatly stepped out of the way. She let out an exasperated grunt, shoving off the mat.  
“again” she ground out, shaking out her shoulders.  
…  
Pushing off the mat for what felt like the hundredth time that morning she held up her hands. “I concede. I smell, and I need to get ready for school” she said, beginning to unwrap her hands from their bindings. Rohan nodded, following suit. Five minutes later, they were back in Rohan’s bedroom. Lyria strode toward the bathing room, Rohan close behind. When she reached the door, she spun, placing a hand against his chest.  
“As much as I’d love to spend a morning with you deep in me, I’m going to bathe. That’s all. You’re welcome to join, but we have school” She turned back around, leaving Rohan standing at the door.  
Soon after, he heard the sounds of her clothes hitting the floor and her gasp as she slid into the bath.  
_She still needs time to herself _, his logical brain argued. Unfortunately, his newly mated mind had other ideas. _She’s your mate _.____  
He gulped, then winnowed himself to the kitchen.  
“Fuck” he whispered, shaking his head. School. Other males. He didn’t know if he could handle it. His father, his father, a mated male, had almost set him off, god knows what someone like Ilias would do.  
He ran a hand over his face, before heading to the shared bathroom downstairs, where a freezing cold bath awaited him. 

_____ _

____

…

Lyria bathed quickly, rubbing herself down with a towel before heading back into the bedroom, only to find it empty. She slid into her uniform, the sigil above her heart a reminder of what she had deserted mere days ago.  
Days. Pain sliced through her heart. Days, and she hadn’t thought about it once. The weight of her actions began to press in. She quickly shoved the thoughts away, shaking her head.  
Instead, she peered down at the crest, the silver and green threads catching the morning light. _Should I wear a Night Court sigil? _She worried, _Or do I keep this forever?___  
Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away, slipping into her black pants and lacing her boots. When she descended the stairs, she found Rohan in the kitchen, already dressed, leaning against the counter.  
With a smile, he offered her a mug. She took it, tucking herself in beside him as she sipped. “Rohan” she said after a moment.  
He looked down at her. “Yes?”  
“Everyone is going to know” she sighed, taking another sip.  
He pulled her tighter against him. “If they have a problem with it, that’s on them” he said.  
She shrugged. “I know but … still”  
He moved to look at her. “Hey” he said. She looked up at him. “It’ll be fine” he said, placing a kiss on her forehead. She leaned into him, closing her eyes.  
“I just want to stay like this forever” she whispered into his chest.  
He murmured his agreement. Moments later he pulled back.  
“That being said, we do need to get going.”  
She nodded, placing her mug on the bench and picking up her bag from the seat it was perched on. Rohan, his slung across his shoulders, offered her a hand. She smiled, placing her palm upon his. The world squeezed around them, and they winnowed to the Institute.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes this is a bit longer and not edited but enjoy. I've now planned until the end of the fic so be warned... sadness may approach

Rohan and Lyria approached the building together, his arm slung around her shoulder, talking quietly. They hadn’t even reached the steps when Xavier appeared, strolling down to greet them. He shot a grin at Lyria and Rohan tensed.  
But the male just turned to him and inclined his head slightly. “Congratulations, both of you” he said. Smiled back, then noted the distance between the two.   
Normally, Xavier would walk beside Lyria on the other side of their trio. Today, he stood about a meter back, on Rohan’s side. As far from Lyria as he could.   
Rohan’s muscles relaxed slightly. He shook his head. This is Xavier. He couldn’t help it. It might be just Xavier, but Xavier was another male. That was something he couldn’t handle. Lyria was his mate.   
Noticing his posture change, Lyria gave his hand a light squeeze.   
Sorry, he said into her mind.   
She shook her head and gave a smile smile.   
Xavier was still standing there watching them, brows raised.   
Lyria let out a laugh. “I forgot to tell you!” She said to Rohan, who was frowning slightly. “I ran into Xavier on my way home this morning.”  
Rohan flicked his brows up. “Oh” he said.   
Xavier just inclined his head again, smiling at them. Rohan smiled back. “Thank you” he said.   
Xavier took a step toward them, falling into stride beside Rohan. “You two have a lot of explaining” he said as the three ascended the stairs into the main building.   
Lyria responded first. “In due time” she laughed.   
Xavier threw a glance to Lyria. “Wasn’t it just last week that I was saying ‘Maybe you two are mates?” He raised a brow, turning his attention to Rohan. “She was very adamant that it was a crazy idea”   
Rohan laughed, shooting a glance at Lyria. “Really?” He asked.   
She covered her face with her hands for a moment before laughing. “I’m not going to deny it!! But yes, five days ago, this” she gestured between them, “was stupid and unheard of… and to be honest I thought I was going crazy” she giggled.   
Rohan smiled at her before speaking into her mind. I love you.   
She beamed back at him.   
They had reached their lockers, and Xavier stepped away. “I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you around” he said. Rohan nodded to him, and the male turned away, making his way down the hall.   
Lyria turned to Rohan. “you did so well!” She exclaimed, placing a hand on his arm.   
He shut his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I don’t know if I can do this. I mean, I wanted to punch him…” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “This is so stupid. I hate this nonsense”  
Lyria laughed. “Then stop your territorial fae bullshit”  
He paused to look at her.   
“What?” He asked, not quite sure he had heard her.  
“Stop. Your. Territorial. Fae. Bullshit” she enunciated.   
He just frowned.   
“it’s a common saying in my household” she grinned.   
he paused for a second. “As much as I hate to admit it… it’s pretty sound advice.”  
In that moment, male arms wrapped around Lyria from the side, crushing her in a hug.   
“What’s pretty sound advice?” Ilias asked, his arms still around Lyria.   
Rohan froze.   
A second passed.  
“Rohan” Lyria breathed.   
Another second passed. Ilias took a breath.  
“W-What the hell happened?” Ilias asked, looking to Lyria.  
Rohan moved, shoving his closest friend in the chest. Ilias barely had time to react before Rohan threw the first punch.   
He ducked, Rohan’s fist making contact with the wall behind him. Illias shoved against him, pushing him back.   
Rohan lashed out again, his foot connecting with Ilias’ leg, earning a grunt from the Ilyrian. He pushed forward, his hands connecting with Rohan’s chest, shoving him back across the hall.   
Lyria looked on, her face contorted in shock as the two boys pummelled each other. The crunch of their landing blows was a sickening sound. wait. I’m Lyria Whitethorn Ashryver Galathynius. She thought to herself. Her power surged through her body.  
Rohan landed a blow to Ilias’ stomach, causing the male to stagger back.   
She took her chance. With a grunt she threw up a shield between the two, burning and shimmering.   
Rohan’s focus broke for a second to look at her. His eyes, feral with rage, cooled almost instantly, his arms hanging loose at his side. She frowned at him, the light of her flames bathing her face in an angry red glow.   
She held his stare for a moment, before turning to look at Ilias. He had dropped to the floor, and was staring at Rohan with confusion and hurt across his features.   
She did a quick scan, he had a couple of small cuts on his arms, but other than that was unmarred. She looked back to Rohan briefly. He took a step toward her, her flames still dividing the two.   
“Lyria I’m sor-“ he started. She just looked at him coldly.   
“Go. You can’t handle this” she said, looking back to Ilias, who’s gaze had shifted to her. Rohan opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand.   
“Just go. We’ll deal with this later”   
The breath rushed out of him, and shame flooded his veins. He threw an apologetic glance at Ilias, before winnowing away. 

Lyria dropped her shield, rushing to Ilias.  
“Shit, shit, shit. Are you okay?” she asked, offering a hand to him and silently thanking the gods that no-one else had been around.   
Ilias just shook his head. “I’m fine. But someone needs to tell me what the hell has happened.” He got up, brushing his hands on his pants as he rose.   
She pressed her lips together. “Let’s go” she said, walking towards the nearest exit.   
Ilias’ footsteps sounded close behind her, as they trekked across the campus and toward her apartment. Ilias jogged beside her, his abrasions already cleared from his arms.   
“Where exactly are we going?” He asked as they walked across the grass.   
“My place” she said casually, her eyes focused ahead.   
Ilias frowned. “Just tell me!” He said, reaching out to touch her arm.   
She stopped dead, spinning to face him. “If you want to know, you have to come with me.” She glanced down at where his hand resting atop her sleeve. She flicked her eyes back to his. “Let’s lay off the touching for the time being” she said.   
He frowned, but dropped his hand anyway.   
They continued in silence, until they were standing on the stairs up to Lyria’s floor. She looked to him. “How matured is your scenting?” She asked him.   
He frowned at her again, confusion lining his face. “My … scenting?” He asked.   
She nodded. He looked around in confusion. “I don’t know, average?” He shrugged. She started towards her room, sliding a key from within her sleeve.   
“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything!” He exclaimed. She shook her head, and turned the key in the lock. Without a second look at him, she strode into her apartment.  
Ilias followed in a second later, looking around. He opened his mouth to speak but then froze. The scent was stale, but unmistakeable. He looked to her. “What the hell?”   
She just shrugged.   
“So you two…” he trailed off, then gulped. “You two fucked? Why did he get so triggered this morning then?” He asked.  
She shook her head. “Come here” she said, jerking her head at him. He frowned but walked over to her. She nodded. “Good. Now, what do you smell?” She asked.   
“What the fuck?” He said, staying a few feet from her.   
“No, not in a weird way, just… do it” she said, stepping to him.   
Reluctantly, he inhaled. She watched him, his features shifting from hesitant to perplexed. He frowned and opened his eyes to look at her.   
“Again. What the fuck?” He said, stepping back. “Why do you smell like him?” He asked. Confusion was painted across his features.  
She sighed. “He’s my mate” she said.   
Ilias’ eyes widened. “No way” he breathed, taking another step back.   
She offered a tight smile. “It’s true”  
Ilias just shook his head. “No way. You’re not even settled” he repeated.   
“Ilias” she started, but he stayed out of her reach.   
“Just because you fucked doesn’t mean you’re mated” he breathed, finally looking at her.   
She frowned. “what’s wrong with you?” She asked, stepping back.  
He shook his head again. “No way. You’re not” he almost chanted.   
“Ilias… what’s going on?” She asked.   
He exploded, rushing toward her. “Nothing. Everything. Four fucking days ago, I had two best friends, who I thought shared everything with me. One I considered family, the other-“ he stopped short.   
She stared him down. “What about me?” She asked coldly.   
He stepped back. “Never mind. You’re not even settled. You’re not mated” he threw his hands in the air.   
“Ilias what the fuck?” She demanded.   
“nothing. Just, give me time” he said, turning for the door.   
“Time for what?” She seethed.  
He turned to look at her, hand on the door. “Just leave me alone”  
With that, he left, the door slamming closed behind him. Lyria stood there in her room feeling the more alone in Prythian than she ever had. She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing her fingers over her brow. 

She remained like that for a few minutes before snapping her eyes open with a sigh.   
Calmly, she walked toward the window, opened the glass, and stepped out, plummeting toward the grass. 

…

She soared around the skies for nearly half an hour, trying to clear her head. _Ilias? What is he thinking. What’s his problem. He doesn’t get to say I’m not mated. No way. _  
Angry thoughts soon gave way to emptiness, as she realised that she couldn’t share her joy with one of her best friends.  
She swept back down to the grass as the clock tower rang, signalling the start of her first class. “Shit” she breathed, almost sprinting across the field and into the builiding.   
She stopped to pick up her books and slid into her normal seat just moments before her professor walked in. Beside her, the seats were empty. No Rohan, no Ilias. Sadness, swift and brutal flooded her veins.   
Dany was sitting a row behind her, and noticing the empty chairs, moved forward while the professor was unpacking his books. Lyria shot her a grateful smile.   
“You okay?” Dany whispered as she slid in beside her.   
Lyria nodded waiting for the inevitable. It was mere moments before Dany whipped her head around to look at Lyria in shock.   
“You and Rohan?” She asked incredulously.   
Lyria just nodded.   
Dany opened her mouth to ask another question when their professor began talking.   
“Who here can tell me about the War for Humanity?” The stoic male asked, leaning against the desk. Dany’s hand shot up instantly, while the rest of the class remained silent.   
Her professor inclined his head. “Miss Cintreas” he said, giving her the floor.   
Dany spoke quietly. “The War for Humanity began 213 years ago, and was waged between the fae of Hybern, an external island country in Prythian, and the lords of Prythian. The war was intended to break the wall dividing the human and fae realms, and was primarily lead by the king of Hybern and the High Lord of the Night Court in Prythian, in conjunction with the other presiding Lords. The Spring Court of Prythian did form an alliance with Hybern, allowing access to the Prythian wall via the Spring Court lands, in exchange for the return of the High Lord’s bride, however the alliance was dissolusioned in later months, for unknown reasons. The fae of Prythian did win the war, keeping the barrier between their realms intact, and resulting in the death of the King of Hybern.” She finished, leaning back in her chair.  
Their professor just nodded. “Good to see you are keeping up with the readings.” He turned to face the board, and began writing a list of High Lords. Lyria only recognised one - Rhysand, a dash placed between his name and Feyre, noting them as joint rulers.   
Dany took the opportunity to lean across to Lyria. “So are you guys dating now?” She asked, wiggling her brows.   
Lyria went to respond, but the professor turned, calling on one of the other students in the class to annotate his list. Dany still watched her, eyes expectant.   
She shook her head, then slowly tore a piece of parchment from one of her books. Quickly she scrawled one word on it, and slid it across the table to Dany.  
She stared at the piece of parchment for a moment. Reading and rereading the note. _mated _, before turning to Lyria her mouth wide open.  
Lyria wiggled her brows at her friend for a moment, before turning back to the class, the anger from this morning replaced with joy.____

____…_ _ _ _

____When the clock chimed again, over an hour later, Lyria barely had time to leave the classroom before Dany pounced.  
“Explain. Now” she said, grinning at her.   
Lyria just laughed, shaking her head. “Not here” she whispered.   
Dany grabbed her arm. “Yes here, tell me!” She replied, staring her down.   
“No, no.” Lyria said then paused. “come over tonight, around four. I have to tell Xavier too” she added.   
Dany let go, stepping back. “fine. But spare us no detail” she said before flouncing off to her next class.   
Lyria ran a hand down her face, still smiling. _ _ _ _

____She arrived back at her apartment early that afternoon. She placed her key in the lock, pushed open the door and stopped dead.  
“What are you doing here?” She asked. Dany sat at her kitchen table, books spread before her. She didn’t even look up.  
“I didn’t want to waste any time” she said, flipping a page.   
Lyria rolled her eyes, a smile pulling across her lips. “Unfortunately,” she said, placing her bag on the hook by the door, “You’ll have to wait for Xavier to show up”.   
The bathroom door banged open. There stood Xavier, drying his hands on a towel. “I’m not the late one here” he said, grinning at her.   
She looked between the two of them, a sigh escaping her lips.   
“How the hell did you even get in here?” She asked, placing the kettle on the stove.  
“magic” Dany replied, looking at her for the first time while closing her book. Xavier just wiggled his brows at her, a smile on his lips.   
She turned the stove on. “Do you want a drink?” She asked, reaching for a pot of tea and a mug.   
“No, we want you to tell us what happened” Dany replied, staring her down.   
Lyria held up her hands, still holding the mug. “Okay okay. Let me make my tea first”  
Xavier stood. “Nope. Sit. I’ll make it.” He strode to her, plucked the cup from her hands and gestured to the newly vacated seat. Lyria rolled her eyes. “Fine”  
She crossed the room, sliding into the seat across from Dany. The books that were strewn on the table had been piled to her right. She sighed.   
“I don’t even know where to start”  
Dany rolled her eyes. “Well, how about Friday night. Last we knew, you two were friends. Then you both disappear for a week, come back acting like nothing happened, and tell us you’re mated?” She said, her eyes eager.   
Xavier laughed. “Also your room reeks of you two. I had to open some windows.” He added with a wink.   
Lyria scoffed, turning to Dany. “Fine. How much do you want to know.”  
Dany grinned. “Every little detail”  
Xavier raised his brows, pouring tea into her mug.   
Lyria sighed, leaning back in her chair.   
“You guys all fell asleep but we stayed up playing chess. Anyway, I went to grab my bags from Rohan’s room, and ended up passing out on his bed.”  
Xavier raised a brow “wow what a coincidence.” He said, placing the mug before her and taking a seat beside Dany. Lyria shot him a thankful smile, placing her hands around the mug.   
“Anyway. When I woke up, he was sleeping beside me.”  
Dany frowned.  
“clothed” she clarified, placing a hand on Dany’s.  
She nodded, content to keep listening.   
Lyria continued. “But he had his wings out. Which was weird. To be honest, I thought it was Ilias at first. So, I was awake but he wasn’t. And his wings were _right there _. Have you guys seen their wings up close?”  
Both shook their heads. Wings were something the Ilyrians in the city mostly kept to themselves, few allowing them out, and none allowing anyone close.   
Lyria smiled. “They’re so cool. Stunning. I-I tried to touch them, follow the little veins and stuff. Apparently, they’re connected to another body part, and they’re super responsive” She bit her lip  
Both of their jaws dropped.   
Lyria grinned. “I know. It woke him up- in both ways- and suddenly I just wanted to, to be with him. So I kissed him”  
Xavier narrowed his eyes “no way!”  
Lyria nodded smugly. “I did”  
“And you fell in love and lived happily ever after?” Xavier asked innocently. Lyria snorted. “No. Gods no”  
He frowned. “Then what was it like?”  
Lyria leaned back in her chair, trying to come up with the words to describe how it was to kiss her mate for the first time. Nothing seemed to do it justice.   
“It was like the stars had aligned, and my soul had returned home. It was so perfect. So I fled”  
Dany’s jaw dropped.   
“What!”  
Lyria grinned.   
“No joke. I panicked. Grabbed my stuff and fled”  
Xavier stared at her.  
“Where did you go?”  
“Home”  
“here?” Dany asked.  
Lyria shook her head.  
“no, home home”  
Xavier frowned again in disbelief. “No way”  
Lyria held up her hands in defence.   
“I panicked okay!”  
She laughed for a moment, while the two stared at her incredulously.   
“I ended up sneaking back into the castle at home through the old tunnels. I saw my dad first - bit of a shock. Basically I just cried into his arms for a good couple of hours. Then my Mum. I told them”  
“Oh my god” Dany said.   
“your parents are mated right?” Xavier asked.   
“yeah” Lyria replied  
“They must have been elated!” Xavier smiled Lyria paused, smiling tightly. “You would think..” She trailed off.   
Dany frowned. “What does that mean?”  
Lyria sighed.   
“Well they were… until I told them who it was.” She finished.   
Dany looked to Xavier, brows raised.   
“But Rohan is the perfect dude” She said  
“How could they not be happy?” Xavier replied Lyria paused again  
“Because we are both heirs”  
Xavier’s brow furrowed. “and that matters..? Dany rolled her eyes. “They both have to rule” She added  
Lyria nodded “exactly.”  
Dany looked to her. “what did you do?” Lyria shoved a hand through her hair. “Told my dad I was never coming back. I literally said ‘fuck the realm’”  
Xavier stilled.   
“You didn’t”  
Lyria grinned sheepishly. “I did. And then I ran off here.”  
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “No way”  
She just grinned. “yep. So I can’t go back. I mean I could, but I don’t intend to. I’ve given away my rights as heir”  
Dany shook her head. “You’re crazy”  
Lyria just rolled her eyes, letting it slide off. “Anyway. Somehow, Rohan found out. That I was back. He came to my apartment”  
Xavier glanced around. “No shit”  
Lyria focused on the table before them. “He told me we were mates. I already knew. I think I’ve known for a while. It was little things, there was this voice telling me _it’s him its him _. I never really listened to it, or gave it much weight until that morning.”  
Xavier leant back  
“Woah”  
Lyria nodded.   
“Yeah. So yeah he came over…” she trailed off  
“and he came over” Dany finished   
There was a beat of silence. Then the three of them burst out laughing. When she could get a breath in, Lyria continued.   
“and stayed here. Next morning we went to his house in the city.”  
Dany frowned.   
“When it was so raw?”  
Lyria shrugged. “Yeah… well we didn’t know what to do. Neither of us are settled. We shouldn’t be mated yet.”  
Dany nodded   
“fair”  
Lyria rubbed a hand across her face in embarrassment.  
“But his uncle and aunt found us first. Very uncomfortable. They could scent it, but didn’t say anything. Rohan had already started to go overprotective. But we told them, everyone was really excited.” Xavier nodded, “of course”  
Lyria continued. “His parents left that night. Went to the Ilyrian mountains to deal with something? I doubt it though. I think they just wanted to give us space.”  
Xavier nodded again. “Probably”  
“And that was three days ago. We spent the weekend doing mate things” Lyria finished.  
Dany laughed at her.   
“damn. How much have you fucked in the past week!?”  
Lyria blushed, biting her lip.   
“probably more than I have all year?” Dany leant back in her chair.  
“Oh my god”  
“Yeah” Lyria gave a sheepish grin.   
Dany nodded for a moment before speaking.   
“I need to get myself a mate”  
Lyria grinned. “I highly recommend”   
They laughed for a moment.   
“But yeah. This morning he aped out on Ilias because he hugged me. I tried to tell Ilias about it, the mates thing but he completely shut me down. Didn’t believe it. Got very angry. Very angry. I don’t think he wants to talk to me for a very long while” She frowned.   
Xavier shook his head slightly. “Give him time I guess”  
Dany nodded. “yeah. If I’m honest, I think he thought you would be mates, after you had settled”  
Lyria frowned. “Surely not”   
Dany shrugged. “I’m not certain, but I did get that vibe”  
“Yeah” said Xavier. “me too”  
Lyria’s frown deepened. Ilias. She hadn’t even thought about him like that. He thought he was her _mate _, gods. That explained this morning’s outburst.  
Dany interrupted Lyria’s spiral   
“So where is Rohan now?”  
Lyria flicked her brows up.   
“Velaris. I told him to go home. He can’t deal with this right now.”  
She nodded. “Fair.”  
“Yeah. Ilias didn’t help” Lyria said, picking at her nails.   
Xavier nodded, reaching for her.   
“I tried to make it easier this morning” he said quietly, offering a smile.  
She smiled back. “I know. Thank you. I think it helped.”   
Xavier just nodded, settling back into his chair. Conversation lulled for a moment.  
“Also did you guys know he’s telepathic?” Lyria asked Dany frowned “who?”  
“Rohan” Lyria said.   
Xavier burst out laughing.“I think you mean Daemati”  
Lyria frowned, but laughed along.   
“Fine whatever. He can speak into my head”  
Dany’s jaw dropped   
“What?”  
Lyria nodded  
Xavier chimed in. “Yeah. All the Night Court High Lords can.”  
Dany shook her head. “That’s crazy”  
Lyria nodded “Yeah - freaked me out the first time”  
They grinned at each other for a moment before Dany reached out to grasp Lyria’s hand.   
“I’m so happy for you” she said quietly.   
Xavier smiled, adding his hand to the pile. “Me too”  
She smiled back at them, her heart swelling with joy.   
“Thank you” she whispered. She grinned at the two, she loved them. Her new family. There they sat, at Lyria’s dining table, drinking tea and swapping stories of lovers gone until the stars began to peek through the blanket of sky. _______ _ _ _

__________The sun was slipping below the horizon as they said goodbye, and Lyria made her way to Velaris. To her mate. Her home._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
